


Bitter Faith

by penwarrior11



Series: The Dragonblood Saga [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 62,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penwarrior11/pseuds/penwarrior11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hundred years the Oblivion Crisis, Mara Fides awakens to find the world changed . The Empire is crumbling and on the verge of Civil War, the worship of her god proclaimed heresy. As the long-dead dragons rain doom upon the world, Mara discovers an ancient power within her that ties her not only to the fate of Skyrim, but of all Tamriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bound

Everything was dark. Hooves beat against dirt somewhere nearby. My seat bumped sharply. A road, maybe? Where was I?

I tried to move my hands. No luck. Rope chafed against them. I was a prisoner. How? And to whom? My head was so heavy. When I tried to lift it, it just lolled to the side. I groaned and slowly opened my eyes. At first, I could only see dark, fuzzy shapes. Then a horse, a cart, and a driver came into focus. Trees lined the road. Pines, I realized. Snow covered the ground. Was I in the Jeralls?

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." A blond, bearded man sat across from me. I watched him through bleary eyes as he leaned forward. His braid swung down to hang in his face. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

The man sitting beside him gave the blond a glare. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." My fists clenched.

But Stormcloaks gave me nothing. I didn't recognize the term at all.

"If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now." He turned to me then and said, "You there. You and me – we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up back there!" The driver snapped. The two of them fell silent.

I gazed at the snow. Something was wrong. The pieces of my memory that should have told me how I had gotten there were just gone. Missing. I remembered… snow, like what was around the cart. And a city. Bruma. Cloud Ruler Temple. A light in the distance, like fire. Then… nothing.

I shivered from the cold. I hated being cold.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The thief asked. I suddenly noticed the third man in the cart, seated beside me. He was gagged.

"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." What rebellion? I didn't remember hearing anything about a rebellion. "But if they've captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

"No, this isn't happening. This can't be happening."

I turned my head. Ahead was a town surrounded by a wooden wall, a stone turret rising from the middle. I didn't recognize the place.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." The blond man looked at me. An agitated tingle shot through my limbs. I prayed that he didn't dare refer to me as a Nord. I was an imperial.  _Imperial!_

"Rorikstead. I… I'm from Rorikstead."

"General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting," a voice called. The gates opened.

"Good," another man responded, sounding weary. "Let's get this over with."

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me," the thief prayed.

A voice came unbidden into my head.  _"Like the goddess?"_

_"My mother's doing."_

"Look at him," the blond spat, nodding toward a figure just inside the gates dressed in full Imperial armor. "General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

The General was speaking to an Alter dressed entirely in black. She was flanked on either side by elves in gilded armor. Her gaze met mine and I caught a flash of cruel, golden eyes. Then the cart moved on and she was gone.

Looking around, the blond man said quietly, "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Velod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." I wrinkled my nose. Mead. The stuff was sickly sweet. I preferred Sujamma any day. "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

My home had once had Imperial walls and towers. Fort Pelagiad had once protected the little town nestled beneath it. My father had worked in those walls, but he was dead. I wondered what happened to Pelagiad and its fort. Destroyed in the eruption of Red Mountain, probably, along with everything else.

The eruption. That was the light I remembered seeing.

The carts pulled up in front of a tower.

"Get these prisoners out of the carts! Move it!" A woman shouted in a commanding tone.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief asked. His voice shook.

"Why do you think? End of the line." The carts bumped to a halt. The prisoners in the other cart began to get out. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief."

"You've got to tell them we weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

"Step towards the block when we call your name," the woman called. "One at a time."

There was a sigh from behind me as the blond hopped down. "Empire loves their damn lists."

Ulfric went first, holding his head high, followed by the blond, who was named as Ralof.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" The thief bolted, and the woman shouted for him to halt. He ignored her and kept running.

"Archers!" As one, three men drew back their bowstrings and fired. Lokir was dead in moments, three arrows stuck in his back. She turned back to the carts, looking livid. "Anyone else feel like  _running?_ "

"Wait. You there, step forward." I took two shuffling steps and lifted my head. The man looked down at the list and back to me. "Who are you?"

"Mara. Mara F…" My voice cracked and I coughed, unable to continue.

"Nord?" He asked. Eyes watering, I shook my head. "Imperial, then. What are you doing in Skyrim…?" He looked back down again. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

"Forget the list. She goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain." He nodded to me. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil. Follow the Captain, prisoner."

I shuffled behind the woman in gleaming armor to stand with the rest of the prisoners. As I approached, I could hear the General speaking to the gagged man.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder a king and usurp his throne." Ulfric made an angry grunt. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

From somewhere in the distance came a strange, echoing roar. The sound was strangely familiar, but I couldn't place it. Everyone gazed at the sky uneasily.

"What was that?"

"It's nothing," the General insisted. "Carry on."

"Yes General Tullius. Give them their last rites."

A priestess garbed in yellow, hooded robes stepped forward and raised her arms, saying, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you–"

Wait…  _Eight_?

"For the love of Talos," one of the Stormcloaks snapped as he strode forward, "shut up and let's get this over with."

The priestess gave him a haughty glare. "As you wish."

"Come on, I haven't got all morning!"

The Captain shoved him down, forcing his head onto the block. The headsman raised his axe.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

The axe dropped with a  _thunk_. Immediately there was a cacophony of shouts from the townsfolk and Stormcloaks, screaming insults and blame at both sides.

"Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil!" The Captain shouted over the din.

Another roar. The man who'd read off the list looked nervously at the Captain. "There it is again. Did you hear that?"

"I  _said,_  next prisoner," she snapped.

He looked at me then, almost remorseful. "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

I didn't argue. I didn't fight it. I just walked calmly over to the block and knelt around the body. In place of fear was a sort of curiosity. What would happen when I was beheaded? I'd been cursed by an angry Daedric Prince to never die. I  _should_  have been dead. I remembered… darkness. A savage growl. Blinding pain, and then–

The headsman raised his axe.

Suddenly, a dark shape swooped down from the clouds, roaring. It was all angles and fangs and spikes.

"What in Oblivion is that?" Tullius shouted.

The thing landed on the tower, which shook beneath its massive weight. Its eyes were a cruel dark red. It glared down at all of us and seemed to sneer. My eyes widened. It couldn't be…

"Dragon!"

Swords were hastily drawn and I heard the pull of a bowstring. But I was frozen, utterly frozen.

_The man stood on top of the altar in the center of an enormous marble chamber. He looked at me for a moment, his blue eyes filled with a mix of grief and resolve. I screamed for him to stop, but it was too late. He cast the pendant down and it shattered in an explosion of light. Then he was a dragon, towering above me, his scales the color of molten gold._

My eyes filled with tears. "Martin…"

The black dragon opened its great maw and roared. The blast shoved me roughly back across the cobbles. I winced and squeezed my eyes shut. My whole right side stung with scratches. All around, I could hear shouted orders, screams, explosions.

"Hey, you! Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!"

It was the blond man, Ralof. He dragged me to my feet and helped me across the plaza. Smoke and fire filled the air. Stones fell from the sky, exploding on impact with the ground. We dodged them, skirting around the fleeing and the fighting. Ralof pushed me into the tower and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages." There was another roar and everyone winced. "We need to move. Now!"

"Up through the tower, let's go!"

I followed Ralof as he raced up the stairs. We were almost at the top when the wall was torn open and the dragon released a torrent of crimson flame.

"Get back!" Ralof shouted.

I flattened myself as the fire raged overhead. When the dragon flew off, I scrambled up the rest of the stairs. Ralof leaned against the edge of the broken stone wall, gazing out through the smoke.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!" I looked down. That wasn't a short jump. "Go! We'll follow when we can."

Steeling myself, I leapt from the tower and down through the fire, rolling as I landed. I stumbled off again, down through a hole in the floor, and out to the street. The damage out there was just as bad, if not worse. Whole buildings were flattened, their remains burning. The legionnaire who'd read off the list was trying to pull a young boy away from a man lying in the street. I raced past them, hoping to find an exit. With an earth-shaking  _boom_ , the dragon landed in front of me. My eyes widened and I scrambled back to the others as it let out another jet of flame.

The legionnaire gazed down at me. Burns covered the right half of his face. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." I could only nod and struggle to my feet. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar."

The legionnaire, Hadvar, turned down an alley and shouted back at me, "Stay close to the wall!"

The end of the dragon's wing sliced between us, forcing us back. I stayed deathly still, afraid to even move. Then it was off again and so were we.

The General and all the legionnaires were in front of the main gate, openly firing at the monster. As Hadvar approached, he roared, "Into the keep, soldier. We're leaving!"

Hadvar ruefully turned from the fighters. "It's you and me, prisoner."

We were almost to the keep when a man in blue cloaked armor crossed our path. Ralof.

"You damned traitor. Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time."

Hadvar snarled. "Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." He swerved past Ralof and kicked the keep's door open. Turning, he shouted, "With me, prisoner. Let's go! I can cut you loose inside the keep!"

The dragon roared again. Without a second thought, I plunged headlong inside.

The room inside was murky. Some of the torches had gone out. The few remaining ones threatened to. I sat down heavily on one of the beds, trying to catch my breath. Hadvar shut the door after a few moments.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it." He walked in a few feet. I saw his fingers shake as he gingerly felt the burns on his face. "Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the End Times?" He murmured. Shaking his head, he beckoned to me. "Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off."

I got up and walked over to him. Pulling a dagger from his belt, he started to cut through the rope.

"Do you… do you know how I got here?" I murmured. Talking was still difficult. My voice was so hoarse I barely even recognized it as my own.

"What do you mean?" He had almost finished sawing through.

"You said we're in Skyrim, but I don't… I don't remember how I got here."

"We found you near Pale Pass, if that's any help."

Pale Pass? Yes. That was where I had been. Running. Then the ogres. After that it was all a blur. I was getting nowhere fast.

The ropes snapped as Hadvar finally cut through them. "There you go. Take a look around, I'm sure you'll find plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to try to find something for these burns."

I shook out my hands to try and regain some feeling in them. My wrists were rubbed raw and stung when I flexed them. I cringed.

Walking to one of the chests, I carefully knelt down beside it and opened it up to check the contents. Inside was a set of Imperial leather armor, as well as a pair of gloves. I pulled them on. The clothes I wore were nothing but tattered rags that hung loose around me. At least the armor was slightly warmer. From a weapon rack nearby, I took a sword and a bow. I strapped them on and slung a quiver of iron-tipped arrows over my shoulder.

There was a stifled groan from behind me and I turned to see Hadvar dabbing something onto the burns on his face. He shook his head and squared his shoulders.

"Right, let's go. That thing is still out there."

A roar echoed through the walls.

I followed Hadvar through a door at the other side of the room and down a set of hallways. He abruptly held up his hand for me to stop and I heard what he did: voices from up ahead.

"We need to get moving! That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!"

"Just give me a minute… I'm out of breath…"

"Stormcloaks," Hadvar whispered. "Maybe we can reason with them."

I nodded, but my hand twitched toward the hilt of my blade all the same. While I didn't know much about them yet, I knew that they were rebels against the Empire. That was damning enough for me. Hadvar opened the gate leading into the large, circular room. As we entered, the two Stormcloaks looked up. Shouting angrily, they jumped to their feet and drew their weapons. I drew my own in response. So much for "reasoning."

Bringing my sword up, I blocked a swing that one of them aimed at my head. I heard the sound of metal on metal as Hadvar clashed with the other rebel.

"If you want to die, so be it," he said, growling with effort.

"You won't take us alive!"

True enough. I ducked out from beneath the attacker's blows. Whirling, I stabbed my sword through his back. He let out a gurgle and fell at my feet. When I looked over, the other Stormcloak was dead as well.

"Let me see if I can get that door open," Hadvar said. When it wouldn't budge, he smashed the lock.

I followed him through the doorway and down a set of stairs. At the bottom was another hallway. Before I could take more than a few steps, there was another roar. The walls shook.

"Look out!"

I felt a hand grab my shoulder and yank me back just as the ceiling fell. Breathing hard, I pushed myself to my feet again. As the dust settled, I saw that the hall ahead was completely blocked by rubble.

"Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy," Hadvar muttered. Pushing open a door nearby, he nodded and said, "Come on. This way."

* * *

 

The fort eventually gave way to a passage of tunnels. Hadvar and I hurried along, wary of more attackers. In the caves themselves was a nest of spiders as big as dogs. Thankfully between the two of us they went down easy enough.

Just when I was beginning to think that there was never going to be an end to the caves, we rounded a corner. At the end was an opening filled with sunlight. Hadvar let out a bark of relieved laughter and put on speed.

"This looks like the way out! I was starting to wonder if we'd ever make it."

I followed him through the crevice, shielding my eyes against the bright light as I stepped outside. Blinking, I saw that the sunlight was glinting off patches of brilliantly white snow. Pine trees surrounded us. In the distance I saw snowcapped peaks jutting out into the clear sky.

A moment later I heard the flapping of giant wings and Hadvar hissed, "Wait!"

We ducked behind a nearby boulder to hide. Overhead I saw the dragon fly away toward the mountains. It let out a roar as it passed over us. I squinted at it, frowning. I'd… seen a dragon before, yes, but that was something different. This thing wasn't divine. It didn't  _burn._ Its scales were black as midnight and looked as sharp as ebony knives.

As it vanished into the distance, Hadvar got to his feet.

"Looks like he's gone for good this time, but I don't think we should stick around to see if he comes back," he said, finishing with a slight laugh. Helping me up, he added, "Closest town from here is Riverwood. My uncle's the blacksmith there. I'm sure he'd help you out."

"Well, it seems like I could use all the help I can get." My voice was still scratchy, but less hoarse than it was earlier. That was a good sign. Hadvar laughed again and shook his head.

We walked down the trail for a while, past pine trees and patches of brightly-colored mountain flowers. I heard birds chirping from somewhere nearby.

"You said your name was Mara, right?" He finally asked me. "After the goddess or the Champion?"

I paused at that. The Champion of Cyrodiil. That was the title Ocato had wanted to give me. If Hadvar was asking if I was named after  _myself…_ just how much time had passed?

"The goddess, actually." I rubbed my forehead, still trying to fathom exactly what had happened. "Hadvar, what's today's date?"

"It's the seventeenth of Last Seed, year two hundred one of the fourth era."

Oh sweet Divines.

I must have appeared as shocked as I felt because suddenly the legionnaire was giving me an odd look. Shaking my head, I told him, "I'm sorry, it's just… I've been out much longer than I'd thought."

"When was it last you remember?"

"Sun's Dawn." Well, that was an honest enough answer.

Hadvar whistled and shook his head. "That's no short amount of time."

Oh, he had no idea. I was still stunned by the thought. How could I have been out for over  _one hundred ninety-six years?_

"There it is."

I shook my head to clear it and looked in the direction the legionnaire pointed. Down the road a little way was a stone wall topped with a covered walkway. Along the river running beside us I could see a churning water wheel.

Hadvar slowed as we approached the village. Past the wall I could see small wooden houses with thatched roofs. A handful of people milled about on the street and a young boy played with a dog on one of the porches.

"Things look quiet enough here," Hadvar said cautiously. "Come on. There's my uncle."

I followed him down the street a little way until we reached a house with a forge set on the side. A big, blond man was pounding something on an anvil.

"Uncle Alvor! Hello!"

The man glanced up and wiped his hands off on his apron. "Hadvar? What are you doing here? Are you on leave from…?" He seemed to finally get a good look at us because he was hurrying out of the forge a second later. "Shor's bones! What happened to you, boy?"

Hadvar quickly hushed him and looked around. "Uncle, please. Keep your voice down. I'm fine, but we should go inside to talk."

"What's going on? And who's this?"

"She's a friend. Saved my life, in fact," he said hurriedly. "Come on, I'll explain everything, but we need to go inside."

Nodding, Alvor indicated the house. "Okay, okay. Come inside, then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it." I followed the two men across the porch and into the house. The moment we stepped inside, Alvor called, "Sigrid! We have company!"

I heard footsteps from below and a woman appeared on the stairs at the other side of the room.

"Hadvar! We've been so worried about you!" She cried out in relief as she leaned against the railing. Suddenly she seemed to notice me. She looked between the two of us for a moment, blinking in surprise. Then she shook her head and gestured to the table. "Come, you two must be hungry. Sit down and I'll get you something to eat."

The three of us seated ourselves at the table while Sigrid busied herself getting food together. Alvor leaned forward, steepling his fingers.

"Now then, boy. What's the big mystery? What are you doing here, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?"

"I don't know where to start," Hadvar said slowly. "You know I was assigned to General Tullius's guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked… by a dragon."

Silence.

Alvor let out a short laugh. "A  _dragon?_ That's ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you boy?"

"Husband. Let him tell his story." She brought over bowls of stew and some bread. Setting one before me, she said gently, "Here you are."

I murmured my thanks and took a spoonful. The taste was fairly bland, as I'd become used to during my time in Cyrodiil. But it was hot and at least that was something.

Hadvar shrugged. "Not much more to tell. This dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I'd have made it out myself if not for my friend here." He nodded toward me. "I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay."

"Of course! Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help however I can. But I need your help.  _We_  need your help."

I set down my spoon.

"What do you need?"

"The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless…" He shook his head. "We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt."

"How do I get there from here?" I asked.

"Cross the river and then head north. You'll see it, just past the falls. When you get to Whiterun just keep going up. When you get to the top of the hill, you're at Dragonsreach, the Jarl's palace."

"I'll go as soon as I can."

Nodding, the man got to his feet and made for the door. "Well, I'd better get back to work. You two make yourselves at home."

The moment the door shut, a girl's voice piped up from the other side of the room.

"Hadvar, did you really see a dragon? What did it look like? Did it have big teeth?"

"Hush, child. Don't pester your cousin," Sigrid admonished.

I hadn't noticed the child before. Like Alvor she had blonde hair which was braided back away from her face. She was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. In her hands she clutched a small doll. The toy had a tiny wooden sword sewn to its hand and red yarn hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. My heart plummeted at the sight of it. That couldn't be…

* * *

 

Needing to get out of that house, I made the excuse that I desperately needed to clean up. I quickly found a secluded spot downriver. In the water, I saw my rippling reflection. Dirt was caked on my face in thick, ugly splotches and my hair was tangled. No wonder they'd grabbed with the Stormcloaks. I looked like I'd crawled out of some gods-forsaken ditch, which I supposed I probably had.

I stripped out of my armor and plunged into the water. It was like ice against my skin. My head broke the surface and I gasped. My teeth chattered. Still I scrubbed all the dirt off my skin and combed it out of my hair with my fingers, hissing as I hit knots in the strands.

Once I'd gotten it all off, I climbed out of the river and wrung out my hair. As I wiped the droplets of moisture off face, I expected to feel the raised edges of the long, thin scars I'd gotten during the battle at Bruma on my right cheek. Instead I felt nothing but smooth skin beneath my fingertips. I froze. Frantically I searched my body all over. The scars on my arms and shoulders from not being able to block strikes in time, the ones on my face from that spider daedra, the one on my stomach from where I'd been stabbed by the Camonna Tong… every last one of them was gone. I knelt down by the water's edge, heart beating fast as I stared at myself.

How much damage had been done to me to erase every scar, every mark, every wound I'd ever gotten?


	2. Barrow

I shivered as the cool breeze drifted over my still damp-skin. I'd pulled my hair back into a knot at the base of my skull to keep it out of the way. Normally I would have pulled it back into a ponytail, but after seeing that doll… I doubted anyone would possible recognize me for who I actually was, but I would have rather played it safe.

There was a shop across the street from Alvor's house. The sign that hung outside the door, decorated with a pair of metal scales, hailed it as the "Riverwood Trader." I'd found some drakes underneath the fort in Helgen, and I thought it was probably a good idea to pick up a few supplies before heading to Whiterun. The bell that rang as I opened the front door was drowned out by the sound of raised voices.

"One of us has to do something!" A woman snapped. She leaned over the counter, toward the man standing behind it. He pointed one finger at her.

"I said  _no!_  No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!"

"Well, what are you going to do about it then, huh? Let's hear it!"

"We are done talking about this."

At that moment the man caught sight of me standing in the doorway. His eyes widened.

"Oh, a customer." He cleared his throat. "Sorry you had to hear that."

The woman shuffled past me, anxiously fingering one of the black braids looped around the back of her head.

"I don't know what you overheard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open. Feel free to shop," he said to me. I'd worked in that shop in Mournhold long enough to recognize the forced brightness in his voice.

I checked the shelves, pulling out a dark cloak along with a handful of other things, and took them over to the counter. As I handed over the drakes, I asked, "Something happened, I take it?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, we did have a bit of a… break-in, but we still have plenty to sell. Robbers were only after one thing. An ornament, solid gold. In the shape of a dragon's claw."

"I suppose I could help you get it back," I said slowly.

"You could? I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. It's yours if you bring my claw back." Clapping his hands together, he went on, "Now, if you're going to get those thieves, you should head to Bleak Falls Barrow, northeast of town."

"So this is your plan, Lucan?" The woman piped up from behind me.

"Yes. So now you don't have to go, do you?"

"Oh, really? Well, I think your new helper here needs a guide."

Lucan spluttered for a moment before groaning, "By the Eight,  _fine._ But only to the edge of town!"

The woman had a satisfied smirk on her face as she got up from her chair by the fire. I followed her outside of the shop, where she stopped me on the porch and pointed to the mountain outside of town.

"We have to go through town and across the bridge to get to Bleak Falls Barrow. You can see it from here, though. The mountain just over the buildings."

As we started off, she kept talking.

"Those thieves must be mad, hiding out there. Those old crypts are filled with nothing but traps, trolls, and who knows what else! I wonder why they only stole Lucan's golden claw. I mean, we have plenty of things in the shop that are worth just as much coin."

On the other side of town we stopped at a bridge that crossed the river. She sighed.

"I guess I should get back to my brother. He'll throw a fit if I take too long. Such a child…"

I glanced up the road. "How much further do I have to walk?"

"Well, it's a winding road up the mountain just ahead. You'll know you're in the right place once you spot the old watchtower. Once you get to the tower, head north. Bleak Falls Barrow should be just around the corner further up. Good luck. Lucan and I will be waiting for you back in the shop."

* * *

 

It started snowing as I made my way up the mountain, past the watchtower that Lucan's sister mentioned. Just a little further up the trail a ruin appeared. It was cut into the mountain. Arches of dark stone rose into the air. Between the pillars, I saw the shadowy outlines of people. The bandits.

I slunk forward, staying behind boulders and outcroppings where I could. When I was close enough, I crouched low and drew an arrow. One of the bandits stood out on an outcropping that jutted out from the rest of the ruin. Standing guard, probably. Taking a deep breath, I fired. In the distance, I saw the bandit topple off and fall out of sight.

The reaction was instant. One of them hurried over to where the first had fallen while the other slipped behind one of the pillars. I shot down the first and waited for the second to make a reappearance. It didn't take long before I had to duck as an arrow whizzed over my head. Hurrying to a more defensible position, I drew another arrow. Hearing running footsteps, I leaned around the boulder and loosed. There was a scream in response, almost drowned out by a gust of wind that nearly blew my hood back. Getting to my feet, I made my way up the stairs and into the ruin.

Inside it was cold and dark. On the other side of the chamber I'd entered, however, I saw firelight flickering on the walls. I crept forward over the rubble. Two bandits stood beside a fire, arguing. As I got closer I could begin to make out their words.

"That dark elf wants to go on ahead, let him. Better than us risking out necks."

"What if Arvel doesn't come back?" The other snapped. "I want my share from that claw!"

"Just shut it and keep an eye out for trouble."

The first toppled forward into the fire, an arrow protruding from the back of his neck. The second scrambled for cover and started to draw her own bow, but another of my arrows found its mark in the side of her skull.

They'd mentioned the claw. I was going in the right direction.

The rest of the ruin as I descended was infested with rats and I avoided them where I could. Spider webs covered every surface, over old shelves and cracked urns. Other than another set of footprints in the dust, the place looked like it hadn't been touched in a thousand years or more.

That was when I heard the voice.

"Is… is someone coming? Is that you, Harknir? Bjorn? Soling? I know I ran ahead with the claw, but I need help!"

He had to be the other bandit they'd spoken of, the Dunmer. He sounded desperate.

As I rounded the corner, I found myself in a room covered floor-to-ceiling in a thick layer of spider webs. The moment I stepped inside, a massive shape dropped from the ceiling and scuttled toward me. A spider, larger than a bear. The Dunmer screamed and I stumbled back, drawing an arrow. When I fired, it stuck in the monster's face, but it just kept coming. It reared above me, letting out a horrible, piercing shriek. My next arrow buried itself through one of the spider's eyes and deep into its head. It fell to the ground, twitching.

Breathing hard, I looked up to see the Dunmer was caught in the doorway at the other side of the room in a thick mass of webs. He struggled violently. Stepping around the corpse of the spider, I approached him cautiously. Upon catching sight of me, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"You did it. You killed it," he said. "Now cut me down before anything else shows up."

"Where's the gold claw?" I demanded.

He nodded vigorously. "Yes, the claw. I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories. I know how they all fit together! Help me down and I'll show you. You won't  _believe_ the power the Nords have hidden there."

"Fine. Let me see if I can cut you down," I sighed, drawing my sword.

"Sweet breath of Arkay, thank you."

I hacked at the webs, cutting through the thick strands. At first the bandit cringed. Then he shifted experimentally.

"It's coming loose. I can feel it."

With a few more hacks, he dropped to the floor. Before I could do anything, he stumbled to his feet and ran, shouting back, "You fool! Why should I share the treasure with anyone?"

" _You s'wit!_ "

I chased after him through several passages. When I heard a low growling sound ahead I jolted to a stop.

Peering around the corner, I saw several withered corpses rising from alcoves along the walls to surround him. He managed to cut most of them down before the last buried its axe in his back. It wrenched the weapon out of his corpse and turned toward me, snarling. As it raced at me, I brought my sword up to block a strike meant for my head and kicked out at its knee. There was a loud  _crack_ and it staggered backward. Taking advantage of its preoccupation, I swung and knocked its head from its shoulders.

As the echoes of the clash slowly faded, I made my way over to the bandit and searched him. On the body I found the claw as well as a journal. I turned the former over in my hands. It was indeed shaped like a dragon's foot. Designs were etched along the toes leading up to its sharp claws. On the bottom of the foot were what looked like the shapes of several animals. I flipped open the journal to its last written pages to read what was scrawled there.

_My fingers are trembling. The Golden Claw is finally in my hands and with it the power of the ancient Nordic heroes. That fool Lucan Valerius had no idea that his favorite store decoration was actually the key to Bleak Falls Barrow._

_Now I just need to get to the Hall of Stories and unlock the door. The legend says there is a test that the Nords put in place to keep the unworthy away, but that "When you have the golden claw, the solution is in the palm of your hands."_

I debated going back, but since I was there… could it hurt?

* * *

 

At the very bottom of the ruin, past a number of undead, was a long hall with an arched ceiling. Braziers flared to life as I entered, illuminating the carvings that ran the full length of the walls. At the far end of the chamber was a massive stone door. It was decorated with three rings displaying a carving of an animal. At the very center of the door was a stone plate carved with what looked like a clawed foot. Above it were three holes. I remembered what Arvel's journal had said about the claw being a "key."

"Is it really this simple?" I murmured as I pulled the claw out and examined the markings at the bottom of the foot.

With some effort, I managed to shift the rings on the door to the correct designs. Fitting the claw into the piece in the middle, I pressed it in and turned. There was a boom and a cloud of dust and the door began to sink down into the floor. I jumped back, yanking the claw away. When the dust settled, I cautiously made my way through the doorway.

On the other side was a tunnel. Unlike the rest of the ruin, it looked as if it had been formed naturally. I ducked as several bats flew over my head. The tunnel let out into a massive cavern, the ceiling vaulting up high above me. Holes above revealed patches of the sky. In the middle of the chamber was a large platform decorated by several braziers and a sarcophagus. On the platform's far side was a carved stone wall that stood alone and unsupported.

As I approached, I heard a strange sound. It was almost like a faint whispering that got louder the closer to the wall I came. On the wall itself were several rows of strange markings. Several of them stood out, almost seeming to glow _._ Part of me felt uneasy and I wanted to just walk away, but it was just…  _calling_  to me. The voices became more distinct. I couldn't understand the words, but I felt that I should. There was something so strangely familiar about them.

As I stepped up to the wall, everything seemed to fade away but those three marks. Not just marks, I realized, but letters. A word. My lips stumbled over the sound, but I just couldn't quite…

There was a loud  _crack_ from behind me and I turned in time to see a corpse climb out of the sarcophagus. It wore full armor, tarnished with age. The sword it drew from its back was coated with frost.

It charged and I barely ducked out of the way in time. The blow meant for me slammed into the stone wall. I spun around, slashing at an exposed part of its back. I heard a  _shriek_ as my blade scraped across bone. The zombie roared at me, and the sound was almost…  _tangible_. It knocked me off my feet and I gritted my teeth as I hit the hard stone platform. The creature stood over me with a horrible sneer and poised to strike. Before it could I stabbed up through its stomach and wrenched my blade to the side. Its skin tore and I heard bones snap. It fell to the ground beside me and was still.

I lay there for a moment, breathing hard, before getting shakily to my feet. There was a set of stairs at the back of the cavern, hopefully leading to a way out. I hadn't taken more than a few steps when something caught my eye.

It was a small slab of pale gray stone lying at the bottom of the open sarcophagus. What looked like carvings covered its surface. When I picked it up and dusted it off, I saw that they formed what looked almost like a map. Tiny star shapes dotted the design here and there. I had no idea what it meant, but I mused that I might have been able to do something with it. I held onto it as I made for the stairs again.

At the top of the stairs was a tunnel that led out to an outcropping overlooking a lake. I carefully climbed down the cliff face and dropped the last few feet. Eroded skeletons of some kind of massive animal littered the area. I picked my way through, heading for the water. A river broke off from the lake. I assumed it was the one that ran beside Riverwood. I started to follow it.

For several minutes I heard nothing. Then there was the sound of footsteps up ahead. I soon saw that they belonged to several figures in light, mismatched armor.

More bandits.

"There's the bitch!" One of them screamed. An arrow whizzed past my head. "Give us the claw!"

I ducked behind a tree and nocked an arrow. Then I held my breath and listened to their footsteps. One was getting too close. I popped around the tree and fired, catching him in the throat. The second I got through the eye moments later.

Before I could find new cover, I felt a searing pain in my right arm. One of the s'wits had gotten me. I ran down the hill and slid to a halt behind a fallen tree. The bandit who'd shot me was a ways behind. But weren't there four of them? I shot two, I knew where the one was…

I saw a movement in the trees ahead and I quickly nocked and fired. A man cried out. Make that one left.

Taking a steadying breath, I backed up and drew the bowstring. The bandit jumped around the log and fired. I had to dive to the side to avoid being skewered, so my shot went wide.

"Just try to fight back." He taunted. I snatched an arrow out of my quiver and shot. It stuck squarely in his chest and he toppled, his condescending laugh turning instantly to an anguished moan.

I staggered to my feet. The wound on my shoulder was dripping blood all down my arm. Wincing, I put a hand over it. Yellow light filtered out from beneath my palm. When I took my hand away, there was new, raw skin underneath. It would hurt for a while, but it would be fine soon enough.

The sun had just started to rise over the mountains when I finally made it back to the Riverwood Trader. I pushed the door open, wincing as the skin on my wounded shoulder stretched painfully, and stepped inside. The woman was dozing beside the fire and didn't even look up as the bell tinkled. Lucan, however, snapped out of his stupor. He was still standing behind the counter. He looked like he'd been there all night.

I shuffled up and dropped the Claw in front of him. He stared at it, blinking slowly as if he didn't quite comprehend what had happened. Then his eyebrows shot up and a wide grin spread across his face.

"You found it! Ha, there it is! Strange… it seems smaller than I remember. Funny thing, huh? I'll never forget this. You've done a great thing for me and my sister."

I mumbled something vague and nodded as he handed me a purse of coins. Judging by the weight, there were quite a few in there. So Lucan wasn't cheap. Good.

I shuffled out of the shop, crossed the street, and dragged myself back to Alvor's house. Sleep was calling for me, and right then there was nothing more I wanted in the world than to oblige.

* * *

 

"Out all night, huh? Where did you head off to?" Hadvar asked me later, after I'd woken up.

"Did some work for Lucan at the Trader. I was planning to head off to Whiterun today." I finished tying my hair up and flopped down into the chair, grabbing the bread that he offered. Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, I asked, "You really think I should join the Legion?"

He seemed taken aback. "Of course! I know you didn't have the best introduction to the Legion, but I hope you'll give us another chance. The Legion could really use someone like you, especially now. And if the rebels have themselves a dragon, General Tullius is the only one who can stop them."

"You think he knows where that dragon came from?"

"No. Not yet. After all a dragon, something out of old tales and legends… no one could have expected that. But you can bet he'll be trying to figure it out. This could shift the whole balance of the war."

I rubbed my forehead, thinking. "I'm still not entirely certain of what's going on. I understand that the other prisoners were rebels of some kind."

"Right. They claim to be fighting for Skyrim's freedom, but the war is really all about Ulfric wanting to be High King of Skyrim."

"But… who  _are_ the Stormcloaks?"

"You haven't heard of the civil war in Skyrim? I guess down in Cyrodiil people have other things to worry about," he said with a shrug. "It's pretty simple. Ulfric founded the Stormcloaks years ago as a sort of private army to advance his ambitions. He's always used the ban on the worship of Talos to stir people up against the Empire. He never succeeded in getting much support, so a few months ago he murdered the High King.  _That_ got the Empire's attention."

An icy feeling slipped into my stomach. That was why everyone had been calling the Divines the "Eight."

"Why was the worship of Talos banned?" I asked quietly.

Hadvar sighed. "I guess that wasn't such a big deal elsewhere in the Empire, but here it's caused a lot of resentment. Native son and all that. Even I'll admit it hasn't been the Empire's finest hour. But it wasn't like the Emperor had any choice, did he? If he hadn't signed the peace treaty with the Thalmor, they would have destroyed the Empire – then where would Skyrim be?"

I watched as he got to his feet and rubbed the bridge of his nose, agitated.

"That's the part that Ulfric's supporters always conveniently forget about," he said. "Unless the Empire stands together, the Thalmor will destroy us all."

I remembered Ralof mentioning the Thalmor back in Helgen. The Altmer that had been speaking to the General. I still wasn't quite sure what had happened, and I was almost afraid to ask, but somehow this Empire was clearly not the one that I had known.


	3. Whiterun

It took a day and a half to reach Whiterun.

Just as Alvor had said, I saw it rise up over the plains as I made my way down the road. It was built on top of a large hill, with unobstructed views of the land all around it. Stone walls surrounded the city on all sides. At the very top, I could see a large wooden building rising above the rest of the city. I assumed that it was the Dragonsreach that Alvor had spoken of.

As I approached the city gate, one of the guards posted there stopped forward to block my way.

"Halt! City's closed with the dragons about. Official business only."

"I'm here  _because_  of the dragon," I said flatly. "Riverwood needs the Jarl's aid."

"Riverwood's in danger too?" The guard jerked his thumb toward the gate. "You'd better go on in. You'll find the Jarl in Dragonsreach, at the top of the hill."

I stepped through the gateway and into Whiterun. Buildings made of wood and stone lined the cobbled streets. Even though the sun was sinking lower in the horizon, the city was still packed with people going about their day. At the end of the street, I saw what looked like a market. I took a left turn that led to a road winding up the hill and past yet more houses. I passed a massive, dead-looking tree at the center of a plaza. A number of people milled around it. Several seemed to be listening to a man preaching before a statue of Talos.

"Today they take away your faith, but what of tomorrow? What then?" He cried. "Do the elves take your homes? Your businesses? Your children? Your very lives? And what does the Empire do? Nothing! Nay,  _worse_ than nothing! The Imperial machine enforces the will of the Thalmor against its own people!"

Turning away and biting the inside of my cheek, I climbed the final set of stairs. At the top a bridge covered with series of wooden arches led to the door of the palace. I walked up, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

Dragonsreach was constructed mostly of wood: the walls, the roof, and the floors. Columns carved with knotted designs supported the vaulted ceiling high above me. Large woven yellow rugs covered the floor. I climbed a set of stairs to the raised portion at the back half of the main hall. Yellow banners covered with the designs of horses' heads lined the walls. A long fire pit ran along the center, flanked by two long tables. At the very back of the hall was the dais. Mounted on the wall above it was what looked like a dragon's skull. I heard arguing voices from the few people on the dais.

As I approached a figure broke away to walk toward me, drawing their sword. It was a Dunmer woman dressed in full leather armor. Her red eyes narrowed as she stopped before me.

"What's the meaning of this interruption?" She snapped. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

"Riverwood is in danger."

She continued to stare at me. "As Housecarl, my job is to deal with all dangers that threaten the Jarl or his people, so you have my attention. Now, explain yourself."

"I was at Helgen. I have news about the dragon attack," I told her.

"You know about Helgen? Come on, then. The Jarl will want to speak with you personally." She sheathed her sword and led me up to the dais. "My Jarl, this woman was–"

"I heard," the man on the throne said. He looked at me thoughtfully, stroking his blond beard, and asked, "So, you were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

I nodded. "The dragon destroyed Helgen. Last I saw, it was heading for the mountains nearby. It may come here next."

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right…" He looked over at the man standing next to him. "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a  _dragon?_ "

"My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger if that dragon is lurking in the mountains," the womer said, stepping forward.

Shaking his head, Proventus countered, "The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him. We should not–"

"Enough!"

The Imperial fell silent at the Jarl's barked order.

"I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people." Indicating the Dunmer, Balgruuf said, "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl," she said with a bow. Turning, she marched out of the hall.

Proventus also gave the Jarl a respectful bow, telling him, "If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties."

"That would be best."

Once they were both gone, Jarl Balgruuf turned his attention on me.

"Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. If I may ask, what is your name?"

"Mara." I deliberately left off my surname. I didn't want to take that risk.

"You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it." He hesitated. "There  _is_ another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps."

I fought the urge to let out an exasperated sigh. There was always something.

Getting to his feet, Balgruuf beckoned to me. "Come; let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and…  _rumors_ of dragons."

The Jarl led me into a room that branched off of the main hall. It was set up as some kind of laboratory. Desks covered in various bottles and a number of soul gems filled the space. Pushed off to the side was a board with a large map of Skyrim pinned to it. Behind one of the desks, a weedy man garbed in wizard's robes was rifling through a stack of papers and muttering to himself.

"Farengar," Balgruuf called, making the wizard look up, "I think I've found someone who can help you with your… dragon project. Go ahead and fill her in with all the details."

As he left the room, Farengar hurried forward. Clapping his hands together, he said, "So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons." He looked me over critically. "Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. Well, when I say  _fetch,_ I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there."

"Right. Where am I going and what am I fetching?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Straight to the point, eh? No need for tedious hows and whys. I like that. Leave those details to your betters, am I right?" I frowned, but he continued on. "I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow. A "Dragonstone," said to contain a map of dragon burial sites."

Before he could say another word, I pulled out the stone I'd taken from the sarcophagus and held it out to him, asking, "Do you mean this?"

He took it from me with reverence, his eyes wide. "The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! You already found it! You are cut from a different cloth than the usual brutes the Jarl foists on me."

I pointedly ignored his quip. "So what's next?"

"That is where your job ends and mine begins," he said, carefully setting the stone down. "The work of the mind, sadly undervalued in Skyrim."

I rolled my eyes. From behind me I heard raised voices and the sound of hurried footsteps. Then the sound of someone calling, "Farengar!"

I turned to see Irileth run into the room. She looked troubled about something.

"Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon's been sighted nearby." She pointed at me. "You should come, too."

The wizard grinned. "A dragon? How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?"

"I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you. If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun I don't know if we can stop it," Irileth told him, frowning.

I followed the two of them up a set of stairs at the back of the main hall. The Jarl was already waiting at the top, facing a guard who looked like he was struggling for breath. As we approached, Balgruuf asked him, "So, Irileth tells me you came from the Western Watchtower?"

The guard nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Tell him what you told me," Irileth said. "About the dragon."

"We saw it coming from the south. It was fast… faster than anything I've ever seen."

"What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?" Balgruuf asked, frowning.

"No, my lord. It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life. I thought it would come after me for sure."

"Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it." The guard bowed and left. When he did, Balgruuf turned to the Dunmer. "Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."

"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate."

"Good. Don't fail me." Looking at me, he added, "I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here."

"I should come along. I would very much like to see this dragon," Farengar said.

"No. I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons."

With a sigh, Farengar nodded. "As you command."

"One last thing, Irileth," Balgruuf called out to her. She was already partway down the stairs. "This isn't a "death or glory" mission. I need to know what we're dealing with."

"Don't worry, my lord. I'm the very soul of caution."

I followed Irileth as she hurried out of Dragonsreach and back down through the city. At the gates, a number of guards were already waiting. Several of them were fidgeting nervously as she came up to stand before them.

"Here's the situation," she told them. "A dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower." Worried murmuring went up among the assembled guards at her words. "You heard right. I said a  _dragon._ I don't much care where it came from or who sent it. What I do know it that it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun."

"But Housecarl… how can we fight a dragon?" One of them asked.

"That's a fair question. None of us have ever seen a dragon before, or expected to face one in battle. But we are honor bound to fight it, even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes, our families. Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?"

Beneath the confirmations that they were with her, I heard one of the guards mutter, " _We're so dead…_ "

"But it's more than our honor at stake here. Think of it – the first dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age. The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?"

The guards all roared and followed the Housecarl out through the city gate.

* * *

 

The tower was in ruins by the time we arrived. Smoke rose from fires in the grass around it. Chunks of stone littered the ground.

Irileth stood on top of a boulder and gazed out at it, shielding her eyes against the light from the setting sun.

"No sign of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here." She climbed down from her perch atop the rock and nodded at the ruins. "I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened and if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with."

We split up, picking our way through the smoldering wreckage. I climbed up some of the rubble toward the tower itself. I'd almost reached the top when a man hurried out, waving his arms. His armor was torn and his skin was covered in burns.

"No! Get back! It's still here somewhere!" He shouted. "Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

I heard footsteps behind me. It was Irileth. She hurried up to meet us, shouting, "Guardsman! What happened here? Where's this dragon? Quickly now!"

"I don't know!"

There was a roar in the distance and we looked up to see a dark shape swooping down from the sky toward us.

"Kynareth save us," the guard breathed, his eyes wide. "Here he comes again…"

"Find cover and make every arrow count!" Irileth shouted at the rest of the men.

Everyone scrambled into position. Hopping down from my vulnerable spot atop the rubble, I picked my way through and looked for a good spot to shoot from. Crouching low, I drew one of my arrows and waited.

As it flew overhead it released a jet of roaring flame. I ducked and gritted my teeth, hoping I didn't get roasted. When the fire died away I popped my head out. The dragon was flying around the watchtower in a loop. Taking aim, I shot at it. My arrow stuck in its chest and it roared again. More arrows flew from all directions. Most went wide, but some struck. I fired another arrow. It missed as well. The dragon was just too damned fast!

With an earth shaking  _boom_ it landed in the open plain near the watchtower and released another torrent of flame. Once it was done I hopped out of my hiding place and charged at it, drawing my blade. It snapped at me with teeth as large as swords and I barely jumped aside in time to avoid them. I slashed across its face and managed to tear a gash in the scales across its muzzle. It hissed in response. Taking advantage of its momentary distraction, I jumped up, raising my sword above my head. The dragon's eyes seemed to widen.

" _Dovahkiin! No!_ "

My sword plunged down into the dragon's skull and its whole body collapsed. Wrenching my blade out, I stepped back, breathing hard. The battle over with, I could see it better. It was not the same dragon that had attacked Helgen. That one had been black as midnight. The one before me was almost silver. Even in the dying sunlight it was an unmistakable difference.

There was more than one dragon in Skyrim.

I had barely formed that thought when the corpse began to glow, the scales burning. The light rushed toward me in tendrils. I hastily stepped back, but they just kept coming, whirling around me in bright waves. A sound like wind roared in my ears. Then the light flew right into me and I gasped as I felt the jolt of its impact. It tingled through my bones and buzzed inside of my head.

"I can't believe it. You're…  _Dragonborn…_ "

I turned to see one of the guards standing behind me, staring at me in shock.

Dragonborn, he'd said. Dragonborn was what they'd called Martin. That wasn't me. That couldn't be me.

"What do you mean?"

"In the very oldest tales, back from when there still were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power," he explained. "That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"

I stared at my hands, still feeling the remnants of the tingle. "I… I don't know what happened to me."

"There's one way to find out. Try to Shout. That would prove it. According to the old legends only the Dragonborn can Shout without training, the way the dragons do."

"That's right! My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn," another of the guards said as he walked over. "Those born with the Dragon Blood in them. Like old Tiber Septim himself."

"I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons."

"There weren't any dragons then, idiot. They're just coming back now for the first time in… forever!"

"But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power. You must be one!"

All the guards had reached me by then, and every one of them was staring at me expectantly. My hands clenched into fists. I didn't know what they were talking about. I had no powers like that!

"What do you say, Irileth?" One of them called. "You're being awfully quiet."

"Come on, Irileth. Tell us. Do you believe in this Dragonborn business?"

The Housecarl had been busy examining the corpse of the dragon, which was no more than bones. When she turned to face them her face was stony. She let out a disapproving noise. "Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about."

Pointing to the skeleton, she went on, "Here's a dead dragon, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some mythical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."

"You wouldn't understand, Housecarl. You ain't a Nord."

"I've been all across Tamriel. I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this," she scoffed. "I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legends."

The other guards mumbled amongst themselves, but the first who had spoken said to me, "If you really  _are_ Dragonborn, like out of the old tales, you ought to be able to Shout. Can you? Have you tried?"

"I… I don't…"

There was a strange feeling coiling and buzzing around my throat and on my tongue. It was hot and sung with power. A memory, a word I just couldn't quite understand. I felt it build and let it go.

_"_ _Fus!_ "

A burst of raw power knocked the men standing in front of me to the ground. Staggering back, I clapped a hand over my mouth. Had I really just done that?

The guard pushed himself up onto his elbows, laughing, "That was Shouting, what you just did! Must be. You really are Dragonborn, then."

I backed away, my head spinning. I had magicka, yes, but I was only ever able to use it for healing. What just happened was something so far beyond even simple spells. There had been no indication that I had ever been able to–

My shadow had been able to throw fire from her hands. To knock me to the ground with just a word.

Fists clenching and breathing hard, I turned away.

Irileth prodded the dragon's skull with her boot. Without even glancing over at me, she said, "That was the hairiest fight I've ever been in, and I've been in more than a few. I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but I'm sure glad you're with us. You'd better get back to Whiterun right away. Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here.

Nodding to her, I hurried back up the road toward the city. The sun had set below the horizon and stars twinkled in the fading blue sky overhead. Except for a breeze rustling over the dry grass and the sounds of my footfalls, everything was quiet. In the distance Whiterun was a haze of firelight in the gathering darkness.

A roar like thunder suddenly filled the air, echoing over the vast emptiness of the plains. The ground beneath my feet trembled.

" _DOVAHKIIN!_ "

I dropped to a crouch and drew my bow, looking around wildly for the source. I almost expected to see another dragon. Nothing.

What  _was_ that?

* * *

 

Proventus was waiting for me near the hall's entrance when I stepped back into Dragonsreach.

"Good. You're finally here," he said, letting out a sigh of relief. "The Jarl's been waiting for you."

Balgruuf was seated on his throne when Proventus led me up to the dais. He seemed to be talking to an armored man whose face was covered in blood-red tattoos. The Jarl leaned forward, rubbing his temples.

"You heard the summons," he said to the other man. "The Greybeards…"

Proventus cleared his throat and Balgruuf glanced up at us.

"So, what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?" The Jarl asked me.

I nodded. "The watchtower was destroyed, but we managed to kill the dragon."

"I knew I could count on Irileth." He leaned forward, frowning. "But there  _must_ be more to it than that."

"When the dragon died I…" I hesitated. "… I absorbed some kind of power from it."

Balgruuf sat back, watching me with interest. "So it's true. The Greybeards really were summoning you."

"The… what?"

"The Greybeards. Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World."

"What do these Greybeards want with me?" I asked.

"The Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted in the Voice – the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um, or Shout. If you really are Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift."

"Didn't you hear the thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun? That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar!" The other man said to me, incredulous. So that's what that was. "This hasn't happened in… centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora!"

I cringed a little at the thought. Me? No. I couldn't be comparable to  _Talos himself!_ That… That was impossible.

At that moment Proventus cut in, saying, "Hrongar, calm yourself. What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with our friend here? Capable as she may be, I don't see any signs of her being this, what, "Dragonborn.""

" _Nord nonsense?"_ Hrongar spluttered. "Why you puffed-up ignorant… These are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire!"

Balgruuf sighed. "Hrongar. Don't be so hard on Avenicci."

"I meant no disrespect, of course. It's just that… what do these Greybeards  _want_ with her?"

"That's the Greybeards' business, not ours," The Jarl told Proventus in a firm voice. To me he said, "Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. If they think you're Dragonborn, who are we to argue?"

Balgruuf let out a long sigh and leaned back in his throne. "I envy you, you know? To climb the Seven Thousand Steps again… I made the pilgrimage once, did you know that? High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place. Very… disconnected from the troubles of this world. I wonder that the Greybeards even notice what's going on down here. They haven't seemed to care before. No matter. Go to High Hrothgar. Learn what the Greybeards can teach you."

"If that's all, then–"

"Hold a moment," he said, getting to his feet. "You've done a great service for me and my city, Mara Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant."

"My lord, I can't… I haven't even been in Skyrim that long!"

"And in that time you've done more for my city than most. I have made my decision and I'm sticking to it." Letting out a loud whistle, he called, " _Lydia!_ "

A moment later a dark haired woman wearing steel armor hurried into the hall and bowed to him.

Pointing to her, he told me, "I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl and this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office. We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn." I grunted as he handed me a greataxe that glittered with some sort of enchantment.

"Thanks."

"Lydia, show her down to Breezehome."

She bowed again. "Yes, my lord."

Proventus stepped forward and handed me a key. Nodding, he told me, "Good luck."

I took the key inclined my head to him before following Lydia out of Dragonsreach.

The city was quiet as we made our way down. Lydia took a different route than the one I'd used before. She led me around the massive tree and down toward the market. I rearranged my grip on the axe I still carried. Damn, the thing was heavy.

"What exactly does a Housecarl  _do?_ " I asked her.

"As my Thane, I'm sworn to your service," she explained. "I'll guard you, and all you own, with my life."

Great. A bodyguard. Just what I needed.

Stopping, I held the massive axe out to her. "Hold this. I feel like my arms are going to fall off."

"I am sworn to carry your burdens," she said with a sigh as she reached out to take it.

I let out a short, surprised laugh. Sarcasm. She'd actually responded with sarcasm. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought. Lydia stared at me and I shook my head.

She led me down the street to one of the houses. Like the rest in the town, it was built of wood and stone. Wooden shingles covered the steep roof. I unlocked the front door with the key Proventus gave me and stepped inside. Moonlight filtered in through the small windows along the walls. In the center of the main room just ahead was a firepit set into the floor. Several chairs sat beside the firepit and Lydia propped the axe against one of them. In the back of the room was what looked like a dining area. Wooden stairs led up to a second floor. I climbed up to the landing. Several doors led off of it.

"Are you staying here as well?" I asked Lydia.

"Yes, my Thane."

"Mara," I said. "My name is Mara."

I pushed open one door and peered inside. It was a fairly large bedroom. Mumbling a goodnight to Lydia, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I stripped off the layers of armor and clothing I wore and flopped down onto the bed. Exhaustion finally catching up with me, I fell asleep almost instantly.


	4. Legion

I woke before sunrise. Stretching, I looked around the dark and unfamiliar room, remembering the events that had led to me obtaining the house. I groaned and rubbed my face. Dragons. So much for me staying out of things. Why were the gods so insistent that I should always get caught in the thick of whatever dangerous thing was happening nearby?

I got up and pulled my clothes and mismatched armor back on. Strapping my sword to my hip and my bow and quiver to my back, I quietly slipped out of the house.

There were still stars in the dark sky overhead as I made my way down the street toward Whiterun's front gate. Whatever the Jarl had said, I wasn't going to the Greybeards. I didn't know exactly what had happened after the fight with that dragon, but I  _couldn't_ be Dragonborn. It was a mistake or… or something! Talos had been Dragonborn. Martin had been Dragonborn. That wasn't me.

The Legion, however, was still an option. Hadvar said that he thought that they had a chance of finding out what was going on. If I wanted answers, going to them was probably my best bet.

There was a carriage outside the city walls, near the stables. The driver looked down at me curiously as I approached. It  _was_  early, I supposed.

"Can you take me to Solitude?" I asked him.

He blinked once. Then he nodded. "Sure. Climb in back and we'll be off."

I paid him the fee and climbed up onto the back of the open carriage. He clicked at the horse and we started off down the road. The carriage bumped slightly against the ruts in the dirt. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

"First time to Solitude?" He asked after a few minutes. "Beautiful old city. Capital of Skyrim, but I'm sure you already knew that."

I murmured an assent. Opening my eyes again, I stared up at the sky high above me. The horizon was starting to lighten to a purplish-gray, signaling that dawn was quickly approaching.

* * *

 

Solitude was far in the northeastern part of Skyrim. The capital of Skyrim rested atop a gigantic natural stone arch overlooking open marshland to the south and the Sea of Ghosts to the east. A pine forest bordered the city on its northern side. Over the thick, sturdy stone walls I could see the revolving sails of a massive windmill. Behind me, the sun was setting over the mountains, turning the grey clouds overhead brilliant shades of orange and red.

The moment I stepped through the gate, I found myself looking at an assembled crowd. The people all faced a platform against the wall. On top a man stood behind a chopping block. His hands were bound. Another man stood at his side, this one in guard uniform. An executioner stood on the other side. At the back of the crowd a little girl was tugging on a man's arm.

"They can't hurt uncle Rogvir," she insisted. "Tell them he didn't do it!"

" _Positions._ "

"Svari, you need to go home," the man said, pointing down the street. "Go home and stay there until your mother comes."

A woman walked past, glaring at him. "You should tell her that her uncle is scum that betrayed his High King. Best she know now, Addvar."

I pulled down my hood and slipped into the crowd. All around me, people were jeering and shouting things like, "You betrayed us!"

The guard on the platform had to raise his voice to be heard over the crowd. "Rogvir, you helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape this city after he murdered High King Torygg. By opening that gate for Ulfric, you betrayed the people of Solitude."

"There was no murder! Ulfric challenged Torryg!" The man insisted.

" _Liar!_ "

"He beat the High King in fair combat! Such is our way! Such is the ancient custom of Skyrim and all Nords!" The crowd booed loudly. The man was forced to kneel down and lay his head on the block. "On this day, I go to Sovngarde."

The axe came down with a  _thunk_.

"Some gate guard  _you_ were!"

"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say."

The crowd slowly dispersed, shaking their heads in residual anger and disgust. I went over to one of the guards that remained nearby and asked him, "Where do I find General Tullius?"

"He's up in Castle Dour. Over there." He pointed down the street toward a set of towers. I nodded to him in thanks and hurried toward it.

I climbed a ramp leading up from the street to the castle. Flags displaying both the Imperial sigil and the mark of Solitude, a wolf on red and white, hung from the walls. Passing through a courtyard, I stepped inside.

Crossing a short hall lit by braziers and lined with Imperial banners, I found a small room where two people were arguing. One was an Imperial man in armor that I faintly recognized as belonging to a high-ranking officer. The other was a tall Nord woman dressed in Imperial steel. Her brown hair was braided back to keep it out of her face. Between them was a table.

"I'm  _telling_ you, Ulfric's planning an attack on Whiterun," she said, leaning forward across the table. A large map of the province lay over it, dotted with small flags colored either red or blue.

The man was pacing, his arms clasped behind his back. "He'd be insane to try. He doesn't have the men."

"That's not what my scouts report, sir. Every day more join his cause. Riften, Dawnstar, and Winterhold support him."

"It's not a cause. It's a rebellion."

"Call it whatever you like, General. The man's going to try to take Whiterun."

"Jarl Balgruuf…" He too leaned on the table, looking weary.

"Balgruuf refuses the Legion's right to garrison troops in his city. On the other hand, he also refuses to acknowledge Ulfric's claim."

"Well, if he wants to stand outside the protection of the Empire, fine," he grumbled. "Let Ulfric pillage his city."

"General!"

The man turned away and started pacing again. "You people and your damn Jarls."

"Sir, you can't force a Nord to accept help he hasn't asked for."

"If Ulfric's making a move for Whiterun, then we need to be there to stop him. Draft another letter with the usual platitudes, but this time share some of your intelligence regarding Ulfric's plans. Embellish if you have to. We'll let it seem like it's  _his_ idea."

"Yes, sir."

"You Nords and your bloody sense of honor…" He groaned, shaking his head.

The woman stepped away, leaving him alone. After a minute or two, he looked up and saw me. The General sighed.

"Are my men now giving free reign to anyone who wanders into the castle? Do you have some reason to be here, citizen?" He asked.

"I believe we've already met," I told him.

"Have we?" He strode over and gave me a long, hard look. "Oh. Oh, of course. You were at Helgen. One of the prisoners, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, what are you doing here?"

"I came to help the Empire," I said. "Hadvar said he'd vouch for me."

"Hadvar's alive? I hope that's true. Damn good soldier. He hasn't reported in yet, so he can't  _exactly_ confirm your story." Damn. "In the meantime, why don't you have a chat with Legate Rikke? I suspect we might have use for someone resourceful like you. Not many survived Helgen," he added bitterly. "Besides, I'm sure your being imprisoned was all a terrible misunderstanding."

He led me back out into the hall and indicated that I should wait there. A few minutes later the woman appeared. Stopping before me, she looked me over.

"You survived Helgen? General Tullius told me what happened." She looked impressed. "Not many made it out alive."

I nodded. "Yes, Legate."

She crossed her arms and nodded slowly. "I've got a good feeling about you, and I don't often get good feelings about anything. A warrior knows to trust her gut. I'm not going to go through the normal process with you. I've got a little test lined up. Pass that, and we'll talk about you joining the Legion."

"What kind of test?"

"The kind that evaluates your usefulness during… duress."

Well,  _that_ was a good sign…

"The ancients built many of the fortresses that dot the landscape of Skyrim," she began. "Sadly, most have fallen into disrepair, and nearly all have been overrun with bandits or other vagabonds. Fort Hraagstad is one of the few that remains mostly intact. We're going to install a garrison there, but first the bandits that have moved in need to be cleared out. I'm sending you do it. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpse."

The latter might be a bit more difficult than she'd expect, with my… unique circumstances.

"Consider the fort yours," I told her.

"Good. That's what I want to hear. Now go make it happen, soldier."

* * *

 

It took a day to get to the old fort, passing through the forest and heading out nearly to the coast. Night had settled in and brilliant bands of light filled the sky overhead. I'd never seen anything like them before.

A lone figure patrolled the battlements, their outline little more than a dark shadow. I crept forward, the snow covering the ground crunching softly beneath the soles of my boots. Crouching down behind a boulder, I nocked an arrow and waited. The bandit stopped. The instant they did I loosed. With some satisfaction I saw the shadowy figure fall back out of sight behind the wall.

Holding my breath, I waited and counted the seconds that ticked by. When no one else appeared, I crept in through the entrance. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy…

I passed by the fallen bandit. Her eyes were glazed over as they stared sightlessly at the night sky above. The rest of the courtyard appeared deserted. I glanced around. One of the doors in the keep was open a crack, letting out a sliver of light. Voices came from inside. Nocking an arrow, I carefully pushed it open.

Two bandits stood by the fireplace just inside. Their arms were crossed and they chatted to one another, completely unaware of my presence. Taking a deep breath, I loosed my first arrow, catching the bandit in the neck. She let out a choked gurgle and stumbled, hitting her head on the stone fireplace and crumpling. The second was dead as well before he could even draw his sword.

At the back of the room was a set of stairs leading to an upper floor. I crept up them, readying another arrow. There was a long chamber at the top, set up as living quarters. The far end of the room was lined with several beds. A figure in full armor sat in a chair on that side, sharpening a greataxe. His gaze lifted just as I inched up the top step and he jumped to his feet.

He'd seen me.

The bandit hefted his axe and charged, roaring at me. Raising my bow, I shot. The arrow punched through his left eye. He fell with a loud clatter as the plates of his armor collided with the stone floor.

As the echo faded I picked my way through the room. If the bandits had anything of value, there was no sense in leaving it all behind. In one of the dressers in the living quarters I found a decent sized purse full of drakes. Good enough. As I shut the drawer, I noticed the book sitting on top of the dresser. Its title caught my eye.

_The Talos Mistake_

Frowning, I picked it up and flipped it open.

_As citizens of the Empire, all are of course familiar with the deeds of Emperor Tiber Septim. But it is the Emperor's ascent to godhood, as Talos, that is the subject of this work._

_Until Tiber Septim's death, there had been but Eight Divines: Akatosh, Dibella, Arkay, Zenithar, Stendarr, Mara, Kynareth, and Julianos. These gods were, and are, worshipped throughout the Empire. And while some may have different names in the varying provinces (for example, Akatosh is known as "Auri-el" to the Aldmer; and Arkay is sometimes known as "Ar'kay"), all are recognized and revered by all races and cultures of Tamriel._

_But when Tiber Septim passed to Aetherius, there came to be a Ninth Divine – Talos, also called Ysmir, the "Dragon of the North." The man who was so loved in life became worshipped in death. Indeed, it can be argued that Talos, the Ninth Divine, became even more important than the Eight that had preceded him, at least to humans. For he was a god who was once just a man, and through great deeds actually managed to ascend to godhood. And if one human could achieve such a feat – couldn't it be done again? Couldn't all humans aspire to achieve divinity?_

_So we thought, we humans. And so we continued to worship Talos, and revere him as the ultimate hero-god. But that was then. This is now. And now we know the truth:_

_We were wrong._

_As citizens of the Empire, we all experienced the horrors of the Great War. And it was not until the signing of the White-Gold Concordat, the treaty between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion, that we once again knew peace. One of the most important stipulations of that treaty, as every Imperial citizen is well aware, is that Talos can no longer be worshipped as a god. This edict shook the very foundations of the Empire. There were those who rebelled against the law. Indeed, some still do._

_But the citizens of the Empire must know this: the Emperor did not agree to outlaw the worship of Talos because it was demanded by the Thalmor, the ruling body of the Aldmeri Dominion._

_The Emperor agreed to the outlaw of the worship of Talos because it was the right thing to do._

_Today the Emperor, and indeed the Empire itself, recognizes that allowing the worship of Talos was a mistake. For by doing so, by allowing the worship of Talos as a Divine, the Empire actually did its people a great disservice: for this only succeeded in weakening the memory of the man Tiber Septim and his many extraordinary (though mortal) deeds; and pushing people away from the Eight Divines, the true gods, who do deserve our love and reverence._

_And so, the Empire admits it was wrong. The Talos Mistake will not be repeated. May we find centuries of peace and prosperity with our new Thalmor friends, and continue to share a spirituality that binds together all the cultures and races of Tamriel._

My hands shook as they clenched around the book. The pages started to tear away from the spine. Snarling, I stormed downstairs and tossed the book into the fireplace, feeling some satisfaction as I watched it burn. The pages curled as they blackened.

So that was how it was. The Thalmor had taken the Empire and turned it into… this. My hands tightened into fists at my sides.

* * *

 

"Tell me again why I'm wasting men chasing after a fairytale."

Tullius and Rikke were arguing again when I arrived back at the castle.

"If Ulfric gets his hands on that crown, it won't be a fairy tale. It'll be a problem," the Legate told him, shaking her head.

"Don't you Nords put any stock in your own traditions?" He asked. "I thought the Moot chose the king. We're backing Elisif. When the Moot meets, they'll do the sensible thing."

"Not everyone's agreed to the Moot. You've been here long enough to know that Nords aren't always sensible. We follow our hearts."

"So, what, Ulfric gets this crown and then suddenly he's High King?" Tullius snapped.

"No. It's not as simple as that, but the Jagged Crown would be a potent symbol for his cause to rally around," she explained. "But, if  _we_ found it first…"

"And we gave it to Elisif?"

Rikke nodded. "In the absence of the Moot, it would further legitimize her claim."

"Perhaps…" Tullius rubbed his chin, deep in thought, before telling her, "I'm entrusting you with what resources I can spare. But I'm warning you, if this turns out to be a waste of time and men…"

"It won't be a waste. The Stonefist's no fool. He's found the crown, but we'll get to it first."

Rikke glanced around and noticed me for the first time.

"The fort's clear," I told her.

Giving me the slightest of smiles, she said, "Welcome back, soldier. I'm glad you made it in one piece. I'll send men to garrison the fort right away. You did well. I'm impressed. Before we go any further, it's time for you to officially join the Legion. General Tullius will administer the oath."

The General nodded to her and turned to me. "In joining the Legion, you'll be taking an oath binding you to the service of the Emperor and thus to every citizen of the Empire."

"I understand."

"Well, then. Repeat after me." He cleared his throat.  _"Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Titus Mede the second…"_

I repeated the words, my throat tightening on the usurper's name. I reminded myself that I had no choice but this.

_"… and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire."_

"… and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire."

_"May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duty. Long live the Emperor. Long live the Empire."_

"May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duty." Martin, forgive me. "Long live the Emperor. Long live the Empire."

"Welcome to the Imperial Legion, soldier. Now, if I'm not mistaken, the Legate has an assignment for you."

The General left the room. As he went, Rikke said, "Welcome to the Legion, auxiliary. Listen up. Ulfric's right hand man, Galmar Stonefist, has located what he believes is the final resting place of the Jagged Crown. We're going to make sure he doesn't get his hands on it."


	5. Jagged

"What is this… Jagged Crown?" I asked the Legate, frowning.

"A legendary crown, dating back to king Harald's time, or before," she explained. "A powerful relic of a golden age long since passed. Legend has it that the crown is made from the bones and teeth of ancient dragons, and is said to increase the power of the wearer. Whatever the truth, if Ulfric gets his hands on it, it would be a powerful symbol around which to rally support for his cause."

That explained why Ulfric wanted it so much.

"And how do we know where the crown is?"

"Well, to be frank, we don't. Its location was lost with King Borgas when the Great Hunt killed him while off on his Alessian campaigns. Supposedly his body was brought back to Skyrim and secretly buried with the crown. Knowledge of that location was lost in the Wars of Succession. But my agents report that Galmar is pretty damned convinced Korvanjund is the tomb of King Borgas." She sighed. "I know Galmar. We fought in many wars together. He's not a sentimental man taken to fancy. If he believes the crown is there, he's likely found it."

"So you want me to go to this Korvanjund?"

"Yes. The rest of my men have already been ordered to assemble outside the ruin. I'll meet you there as soon as I finish up here."

Nodding, I turned and left the castle.

* * *

 

Korvanjund was north of Whiterun, out where the plains began to turn back into a forest. It was snowing when I arrived, and I kept my hood up to ward off the icy white flakes blowing around me.

Some way from the ruin itself was Rikke's group of legionnaires. One of them looked up as I approached and grinned.

"Good to see you, my friend," Hadvar said. "I knew you'd make a proper legionnaire. I'm glad you'll be with me in there. I don't like the looks of this place. And I'm not talking about the Stormcloaks."

I looked at the dusky stone pillars behind us. "I know what you mean about these old ruins." I'd spent too much time in them, and it never really got any easier.

"You too, huh? I'd much rather a straight-up fight than creeping around a place like this. But never mind all that. We're the Emperor's soldiers. We'll do our duty no matter what stands in our way, right?"

A gnawing ache settled into my chest. "Right."

One of the other legionnaires was pointing to the ruin as he spoke to Rikke.

"Stormcloaks were already camped out around the entrance when we got here," he was hastily explaining to her. "They don't know we're here yet, though."

"Well, that's something at least." Turning to me, the Legate said, "Looks like the damned rebels got here first. No matter. We have the element of surprise. Prepare to move out."

"Yes, ma'am."

As she walked away, I drew my bow. She stopped just before the hill that stood between us and the ruin proper. Facing us, she said, "Listen up, legionnaires. Those Stormcloaks are here for the same reason we are. Ulfric the Pretender wants that crown, but we're not going to let him have it. I realize that some of you may know men on the other side, but remember this: they are the enemy now and will not hesitate to end your lives either. General Tullius is counting on us to bring back the Jagged Crown, and that's exactly what we're going to do. Let's show these rebels what real soldiers look like."

The rest of the legionnaires drew their weapons and we followed Rikke over the hill. Korvanjund cut into the ground like a deep gash, with stairs leading down into it. Stormcloaks were everywhere. As soon as they caught sight of us every last one of them drew their weapons. I hung back, shooting down the rebels where I could and avoiding hitting the legionnaires.

When the last of them was dead, I followed the others to the door leading into the ruin. Rikke nodded at us.

"Well done. They never knew what hit them. But don't underestimate the Stormcloaks. Many are Legion veterans. They may be traitors, but they know how to fight. We had the advantage of surprise this time, but don't expect it to last. Let's move out."

The lot of us hurried into the ruin and quickly crouched low behind some fallen stone blocks. In the chamber ahead was another bunch of Stormcloaks.

"Everybody ready?" The Legate murmured. "We charge on my signal. Time to show what you're really made of."

We all tensed, waiting. Counting down from three, she leapt up from behind the blocks and charged, shouting, "For the Empire!"

The Stormcloaks didn't know what hit them. Within moments every last one of them lay dead at our feet.

Pointing to two of the legionnaires, Rikke said, "You two, stay and guard the entrance. We don't want any Stormcloak reinforcements taking us by surprise." To the rest of us she went on, "Everyone else, with me."

We followed her down further into the ruin. After a few minutes we reached another chamber. It had two floors, and the only way onward was through a short tunnel. The Legate held up a hand for us to stop. Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't like the look of this," she murmured. "Perfect spot for an ambush. Ten to one they're just waiting for us on the other side."

"But there isn't any other way through, Legate," one of the legionnaires pointed out.

She held up a hand, frowning. "Let's not jump to conclusions, soldier. The Legion always finds a way. I'd rather take a moment and look around than walk blindly into an ambush." To me she said, "Auxiliary, see if you can find another way through. We'll charge in to help as soon as we hear fighting."

Nodding, I hurried up the stairs to the room's upper level. Sure enough, there was a passage above the other tunnel. Drawing an arrow, I slipped through. It let out on a bridge overlooking another large chamber. Below, I saw several Stormcloaks waiting on a platform, watching the passage that the Legate and the other legionnaires would pass through.

"You hear anything?" One of them asked.

"No, but I  _know_ they're out there!" Another snapped. "No other way they can come. Now shut it or you'll ruin our ambush."

"I don't like it. What are they waiting for?"

"Maybe they're so scared of you they ran away."

I trained my arrow on one of them.

"Hardly likely."

"Just shut up and keep out of sight."

Before either of them could take a step, I shot one of them down and shouted, " _Now!_ "

The others looked around wildly for the source of my voice and realized too late that the others were rushing in. Within seconds the Stormcloaks were overwhelmed as their ambush backfired on them. I hurried down to meet the rest of the legionnaires.

* * *

 

For a long time we saw nothing else. Then we came upon a small chamber filled with broken burial urns. A dead Stormcloak lay sprawled out on the floor. The legionnaire in the lead stumbled back with a loud oath at something I couldn't see.

"What in the nine holds is that?" Another asked.

I hurried forward to see what they did. It was a corpse, shriveled and twisted. Gray skin was stretched over its bones. Its gnarled hands were coated with fresh crimson blood.

"Is that what killed that that Stormcloak over there? Can't be. It looks like it's been dead for a hundred years."

A chill crept down my spine. The body reminded me of the ones I had seen in Bleak Falls Barrow. That didn't bode well for us.

"Steady now," Rikke told us. "The Legion has faced down worse than a few dusty old bonewalkers. We're not leaving here until we get what we came for. Now let's keep moving."

I nodded, but still kept my weapon at the ready all the same.

The tunnels led down to a long chamber that seemed very familiar. Carvings lined the walls, and at the end was a massive stone door set with three rings.

"I've heard of this," one of the legionnaires said from behind me. "These walls are supposed to show the history of the ancients who built this place."

"Too bad we can't read these carvings. Who knows what secrets we'd uncover?"

"One thing at a time soldier," Rikke told him. "Focus on our primary mission. We're searching for the crown. Looks like we weren't the first ones here, either."

Sure enough, two Stormcloaks lay dead on the ground in front of the door, arrows sticking out of their corpses from several angles. A torch lay nearby.

"Even if these carvings tell us where the crown is, I'm sure we're going to have to find a way through this door," Rikke pointed out.

I knelt down beside one of the bodies. He still clutched something. A claw, like the one at Bleak Falls Barrow. Only this one was made of ebony set with silver. I took it and held it up for the Legate to see.

"Here."

She glanced over. "What is that? Some kind of stone claw."

"It's a key," I told her. Glancing at the markings on it, I nodded at the door. "I need someone to help me turn these."

One of the legionnaires hurried over and together we set the rings in the right pattern. Inserting the key, I turned it and the door slid down with a loud rumble. Rikke laughed in surprise.

"Good job! All right, everyone! Keep your guard up. Let's move out!"

The next passage led into a large chamber lined with sealed stone sarcophagi. The exit on the chamber's other side was blocked by a metal grate. There was no lever nearby. The Legate shook her head with a long sigh.

"All right, legionnaires. Spread out and see what we've got. Auxiliary, do what you do best. See if you can find some way to get that gate open."

While the others searched the main chamber, I took a side tunnel that let up to some platforms overlooking the room. I searched the walls for some kind of switch or lever. Anything that would get that gate open.

"How's it going? Found anything yet?" Rikke called from below.

On one of the walls was some kind of handle. "I think so."

I pulled it and the gate slid up into the wall. Cheers rose from the legionnaires.

"Let's move, men. We've got more–"

There was a loud  _crack_ as one of the sarcophagi's lids burst open and a withered zombie stepped out. Then another opened. And another.

Shit.

I swung down from the stone beams I stood on to land on the chamber floor. The legionnaires were all busy shooting down the things.

"Watch out for the draugr!" one of them shouted. I shot an undead down. So that's what they were called. Strange.

The fight was over quickly. The draugr either had no weapons or very old ones and they weren't anywhere near as coordinated as we were. Soon they were all back to a non-living state, as they should be. Breathing hard, Rikke nodded to the doorway I'd opened moments before.

"Follow me. Let's see where this leads."

We did. Yet another winding tunnel led down deeper into the earth. At the end was a massive chamber whose ceiling was supported by carved stone beams. Massive piles of rubble littered the room from where pillars and chunks of the ceiling had fallen. At the center of the room was a platform ringed with standing coffins. At the far side was a throne. A corpse sat in in, its body hunched forward. Hadvar hurried over to get a closer look and I followed cautiously behind. I soon saw what he had noticed. On the body's head was an old crown spiked with large, razor-sharp teeth.

"Is this the one we're looking for?" He called back.

At that moment the coffins began to shake and I heard cracks as they opened one by one. I saw the corpse's fingers twitch against the arms of the throne.

"Hadvar, get away from there!" Rikke shouted.

He stumbled back was a curse and I fired an arrow at the one wearing the crown. It had little effect. The draugr stood and drew its axe. I circled around as the others charged, looking for a clean shot. The draugr roared at the others, knocking several of them backward to the floor. That was like what the one I'd found at the end of the crypt in Bleak Falls Barrow had done. That was like what  _I_  had done at the watch tower. Shoving the thought from my mind, I fired another arrow at it. It stuck in the draugr's eye. The zombie staggered and collapsed with a loud clatter of armor.

We stood around it, staring at the body. None of us seemed keen to go anywhere near it.

"All right. Get the crown off that draugr!" Rikke said.

Since no one else was willing to budge, I stepped forward and knelt before the body. It didn't move as I slipped the crown off its head. I straightened, careful to avoid stabbing my hands with the sharp spikes of the teeth that covered it.

Rikke nodded at me. "Take that crown back to Solitude, soldier. We'll stay here and see if we can find anything else that could be of use."

* * *

 

General Tullius was examining the map on the war table when I returned to Solitude, bent over it and looking it over with narrowed eyes. He glanced up at my approach, frowning.

"General, sir." I held out the crown to him. "I brought the Jagged Crown. Legate Rikke sent me to deliver it to you."

He took the thing and looked it over, inspecting every inch of it carefully.

"Excellent work, soldier. I have to admit, I had my doubts it even existed. Did you run into any trouble?"

"The Stormcloaks were there ahead of us," I told him.

General Tullius sighed and set the crown down on the war table, resting his hands beside it with palms flat. "Yes. Well, I didn't respond as quickly to the Legate's suggestion as perhaps I should have. But at least we ended up with the damn crown." He nodded to me. "You're dismissed."


	6. Gifted

Thunder rumbled overhead as I made my way down from Dragonsreach. I'd gone out to hunt down some bandits for a bounty set by Jarl Balgruuf and returned with a mammoth tusk strapped to my back for a townswoman named Ysolda. The bounty money in my purse, I walked back toward Breezehome. I tugged on my hood to ensure it covered my head and kept off the rain.

Through the patter of the falling droplets on the cobbles I heard what sounded like crying. I stopped and looked around for the source.

Between the large roots of the dead tree at the center of the plaza I saw a small figure. It was a girl, maybe ten years old. She sat with her knees curled into her chest. Her dark blonde hair was plastered to her olive face and she was dressed in rags. I saw that she was shivering violently.

Kneeling down, I asked her, "What are you doing in there?"

She blinked up at me with large hazel eyes before quickly looking away again. "It's the only place I feel safe."

I inched a little closer. "Why are you out here and not at home?"

"'Cause I don't have one. I was begging until the storm came and everyone left. It's… It's what Brenuin said I should do. He's the only one that's been nice to me since… since mama…" She shivered again and wrapped her arms around herself. "… Since she died. My aunt and uncle took over our farm and threw me out. Said I wasn't good for anything. I wound up here, but I… I don't know what to do. I miss her so much…"

Suddenly I wasn't seeing that little girl. I was seeing myself. Only a bit older than her, with no home and forced to beg on the streets of Balmora just to survive until Habasi found me. This girl wasn't so different from me. Were those her only choices as well? Starving or freezing to death in the streets, or forced to join the Guild?

Not if I could help it.

I held out my hand to her. "Come on. Let's get you out of the rain." She hesitated, frowning at my outstretched hand. "Please. I want to help you."

Slowly, she crawled out from between the gnarled roots. Her legs were trembling so badly that she could barely stand. I saw that her bare feet were dirty and cut up from walking on Whiterun's cobbled streets. When she took my hand with her own smaller one I hoisted her up into my arms. She was so  _light._

"Hang on," I told her. She put her arms around my neck. Ensuring I had a good hold on her, I made my way back with her to Breezehome.

Pulling open the front door, I stepped inside and sat the girl down in one of the chairs by the fire pit.

" _Lydia!_ "

The Housecarl hurried down the stairs. She stopped halfway down and looked between the girl and me.

"Grab some blankets," I told her. "And food."

She nodded and hurried off. I grabbed some things and returned to kneel before the child.

"This I probably going to sting," I warned her. She nodded. I began to clean the dirt off her feet and heal the cuts that covered her soles and toes. She bit her lip to stifle a whimper and I murmured an apology. The cuts quickly healed over and were replaced with stripes of new pink skin. The girl wiggled her toes. A small smile touched her lips.

Lydia returned with the blankets and I let the girl change out of her soaking wet rags and into one of my shirts. Soon she was bundled up in the chair and nervously munching on some bread. I continued kneeling in front of her.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

"Lucia," she murmured.

"And where do you come from, Lucia?"

"We lived on a farm outside of Skingrad."

Skingrad. I inhaled sharply. This little girl had made it all the way from  _Skingrad_ to Whiterun by herself?

"How did you get all the way out here?" I breathed.

She shook her head. "I… I don't know. I just ran and found myself here."

There was silence after that, save for the crackling of the fire behind me. Lucia stared at me, frowning.

"Why are you helping me?"

I took a deep breath and looked at her earnestly. "Because I know exactly what you're going through and I don't want you to end up like I did. Now get some rest. I'm sure you're exhausted."

She nodded, her eyelids drooping. Her head lolled to the side. I got to my feet and headed up the stairs. Lydia was waiting for me on the landing.

"What are you doing?" She asked me quietly.

I crossed my arms and glanced down at the bundle of blankets that obscured the girl. "I was in her position once, a long time ago. Things happened that I wish hadn't. If I can keep this one child from suffering the same fate, I will. But, more than that, there's something about her that I just can't explain. She came here from Cyrodiil. That's an impressive feat for one little girl on her own."

Lydia nodded. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I do."

* * *

 

I headed out to the market early the next morning and picked up several dresses for Lucia, all in shades of brown or green. It just seemed fitting for her. When I returned, setting the package on the table, the girl stirred from her place in the chair. She blinked and looked around in surprise as she seemed to remember where she was.

"I got you some clothes," I told her, nodding to them.

She stared at me, her hazel eyes wide, and stammered, "Th… thank you, lady."

"My name is Mara."

"Thank you, Mara." I nodded and she said, "I don't know how I can repay you…"

I put my hands on my hips. "What can you do?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "I can sew a little. I can cook."

"Can you fight?"

She hesitated. "Mama didn't really like it…"

"I'm not your mother," I told her, crossing my arms.

"I… I can shoot a little. A bow, I mean. I picked it up watching hunters around home."

That settled it.

"Right. You're not going back out in the street. I've got a room I can give you and I can teach you to shoot properly. In return I want you to help Lydia around the house and help me when I go out sometimes. Sound fair?"

Lucia stared at me, shocked. "Are… Are you sure? You really wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not."

A grin slowly slid onto her face. "It's everything I could have hoped for. Thank you so much."

I nodded to the package of clothes on the table. "Get dressed. Let's see what you can do."

Some time later we stood behind the house, facing the target I'd set up before for myself to practice on. Lucia held a smaller, lighter bow in her hands. She'd braided part of her thick blonde hair back to keep it out of her face. Her brow furrowed and the bridge of her nose crinkled as she concentrated. I watched, my arms crossed.

"Relax," I told her. "Don't tense up."

She fired, hitting the edge of the target. Her lips pursed in irritation.

"It's fine. Just try again."

As she drew another arrow, I bent down beside her and adjusted her arms.

"Relax. Now draw all the way back to your cheek. Like that. And don't drop your arm too soon. It'll mess up your shot."

She nodded and adjusted. When she fired that arrow, it struck just a little off center.

"Good. Again."

* * *

 

For over a week I helped Lucia with her archery. Once she let go of her nervousness it quickly became clear that she was a natural at it. She was almost better than I had been at her age, and Da had trained me.

The only hiccup was the day she'd come back to Breezehome covered in mud and carrying a small rabbit.

_"His name is Claudius,"_ she'd said with a brilliant grin. " _Can I keep him?_ "

" _Do you know how to take care of a rabbit?_ " I'd asked her. When she nodded, I knew there was no sense arguing. As long as she took care of him, there didn't seem to be much harm in it.

We were out walking through the city one day when she stopped to look at something in the distance.

"That big tree in the park looks so sad," she said. "I feel sorry for it."

I glanced over at her. "It's dead."

"No, it's just hurt. It's dying, though."

"How can you tell?" I asked, frowning.

She shrugged and played with the dried leaves she'd braided into her thick hair. I stared at the girl long and hard.

"It's a shame, isn't it?" A voice sighed from nearby. Lucia and I both turned to see a woman in brown hooded robes watching the tree sadly. I recognized her as a priestess from the temple, Danica.

"What is that tree?" I asked her.

"It's the Gildergreen," she explained. "It was planted as a seedling in the early years of Whiterun. Disciples of Kynareth could sense something holy in it, and traveled far to hear the winds of the goddess in its branches. They built the temple. Of course, not as many pilgrims these days."

I crossed my arms. "Why is  _this_  tree so special?"

"To the east of here is a hidden grove where the Eldergleam resides. It's the oldest living thing in Skyrim. Maybe all of Tamriel. Our tree here in the city was grown from a cutting of that tree. You can still feel the glory of the mother tree through it. Even its name is an echo."

"Is there any way to save it?" Lucia piped up.

Danica looked down at her, surprised. "I've thought about that. Trees like this never really die. They only slumber."

"Told you," the girl said quietly to me. I rolled my eyes.

"I think if we had some of the sap from the parent tree, we could wake up its child. The sap is precious. It can restore barren fields or bring life to rocks. I can use it to repair the Gildergreen, so we can worship properly again."

"We have to do  _something_ ," Lucia said. Her brow crumpled in a worried sort of way as she looked at the Gildergreen. I let out a long sigh.

"So where is this tree?"

* * *

 

Against my better judgment, I took Lucia with me. She'd begged me to let her come along, and I sensed that it was a battle I wasn't going to win, so I relented. Lydia stayed behind to keep Claudius happy and the house from burning down.

Danica's directions led us to a cave some distance away. I led Lucia inside, indicating that she should be cautious. She nodded and gripped the knife I'd given her tightly.

At first I wasn't sure what we were looking for. Then the tunnel opened up into a massive cavern. Pine trees and wildflowers grew along the trail that wound up, snakelike, through the chamber. High above a waterfall fell through holes in the cavern's ceiling and into large pools below. A light mist filled the grove. At the top of the path was a gigantic tree blossoming with soft pink flowers. I stared at it all, shocked. How could all of that exist down there?

Lucia tugged at my arm. "Come on!"

I snapped out of my daze and we kept walking up the trail. Through the trees I thought I saw other people and heard voices. Worshippers of Kynareth, I expected. As we neared the tree, its giant roots blocked the path. I helped Lucia climb over them to reach the Eldergleam itself.

It was even bigger up close, staggeringly so. Now it was just a matter of getting the sap. I pulled out the vial I'd brought and drew a knife. Lucia grabbed my arm and shook her head.

"Don't. You'll hurt the tree!" She cried.

I lowered my knife a little. "You have a better plan?"

She looked at the Eldergleam and bit her lip. "I… I think so."

I waited while she stepped up to the ancient tree. Putting a hand on the bark, she looked up at the branches. The tree seemed to shudder at the touch. I frowned as my gaze flitted between it and the girl.

"Hello, Eldergleam," she said softly. "I'm here to ask for a favor. Your baby is sick, really sick, and it needs your help. Please let us have some of your sap so we can save it."

"Lucia…"

My fingers twitched. It was a  _tree_. It couldn't hear her or–

I froze when I saw the emerald-green sap start to ooze out from the bark. It dripped down over Lucia's small fingers and she laughed. Shaking my head to snap out of my surprised state, I hurried forward and caught some of the sap in the vial still clutched in my hands. When I stepped back, Lucia kissed the tree and whispered, " _Thank you._ "

As we walked back down the trail toward the cavern's entrance, I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.

"How did you do that?" I asked her.

"I don't know. It just felt like something I should do."

People weren't able to just  _do_ things like that. She'd asked for the sap, and the Eldergleam had given it to her. Just like that.

There was clearly more to that girl than met the eye.

* * *

 

Danica was tending to a farmer's injured leg when we arrived back at the Temple of Kynareth. She left the woman in the care of an assistant and hurried over to the two of us with an expectant look.

"Do you have the Eldergleam sap?" She asked us. Lucia instantly held the vial of sticky green liquid out to the priestess, who took it and cradled it in her hands with a look of reverence. "Oh, wonderful. I'll use this to repair the tree. Thank you both so much for all your help."

We left the Temple and stepped out into the gathering dusk. As we passed the Gildergreen, Lucia said, "I hope the tree feels better soon."

I made a noise of assent in my throat. We passed through the market, where the shopkeepers were packing up their goods for the night. I watched Lucia as she walked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Wilted flowers from the Eldergleam cave were still braided in her blonde hair.

That girl was blessed by Kynareth, of that I was growing more and more certain. It explained how she'd managed to make it through the inhospitable wilderness between Skingrad and Whiterun alone. A goddess was looking out for her. That was certainly an interesting thought, if not a bit worrying.

We stepped back into the house and Lucia immediately hurried over to scoop up Claudius. The rabbit sniffed her, his nose wiggling. Lydia looked harried.

At my raised eyebrow she jerked her thumb in Claudius's direction and told me in a hushed voice, "That rabbit is a menace."

"You can't handle one little  _rabbit,_ Lydia?" I snorted. "What did he do?"

She looked at me darkly. "You don't want to know. But everything's clean and unbroken at the moment, and that's what matters I suppose."

Before I could respond to that worrying statement, there was a loud rumble that shook the house and what sounded faintly like, " _Dovahkiin!_ "

Lucia looked around wildly. "What was that?"

"I'm being called," I said, grimacing. I'd almost forgotten about the original summons. Clearly the Greybeards were getting impatient with me.

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "I've never heard of the Greybeards having to call someone twice. I'd suggest actually going to see them this time. Who knows what they'll do if they get angry."

"Thank you for that input."

My stomach twisted with what I supposed was probably nerves. I still had my doubts about being Dragonborn, as those soldiers had called me. But clearly I was the one the Greybeards wanted since I'd refused to answer the first summons and they'd just called again. Me. Dragonborn. It was a dizzying thought.

"I'll go," I finally relented.

"Good plan."

I glared at Lydia and she backed off, raising her hands in surrender.

"Lucia, watch that rabbit. Make sure he doesn't destroy the house. And Lydia… watch Lucia."

Both of them nodded at me wordlessly. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. I didn't like this. At all. But it looked like I didn't really have any choice but to go.

Right.


	7. Hrothgar

The road to Ivarstead then to the Throat of the World and High Hrothgar led me down the same path that I'd taken with Hadvar when we'd fled Helgen for Riverwood after the dragon attacked. The woods were peaceful. Birds chirped softly in the trees on either side as I walked and a breeze rustled through the branches. I took a deep breath of mountain air, hoisted my pack higher on my back, and kept walking.

That was when I noticed that the birdsong had stopped. There was no sound but the wind in the trees. I hesitated, frowning, and reached for my bow. Something was wrong.

Another path led off of the one I walked on. I followed it, creeping along as quietly as I could. A chill crept down my spine and a sense of foreboding filled me. As I rounded a corner, I realized why.

Bodies of several people lay on the ground, lying in pools of their own blood. Their sightless eyes were wide. Overturned benches littered the area between the corpses and on a nearby rock outcropping was a life-size statue of a man. My heart twisted painfully as I realized who it was a depiction of.

Talos.

I picked my way through the carnage, feeling sick. On the other side of the shrine, partway down the cliff overlooking the lake, was the body of an Altmer dressed in extravagant black robes. Knife wounds peppered his chest. It looked like he'd been attacked and crawled away before falling down there. Then I noticed something sticking out of his pocket. A piece of paper. I carefully climbed down to the body. Pulling it out, I unfolded it and read what it said.

_Agent Sanyon,_

_In response to your report dated 22nd Hearthfire 4E201, your request for an expeditionary force is hereby denied._

_Sanyon, this is the seventh report you have filed this month, and not one of your leads – not one! – has turned up so much as a shred of evidence that a Shrine of Talos exists in the Lake Ilinalta region. No prisoners. No documents. Nothing!_

_Our forces are stretched thin enough as it is, and I have better missions – better agents – to assign them to. If you feel so sure of your informant, investigate this yourself. Come back with proof. Or not at all._

_By my hand and seal,_

_Elenwen_

So this had been a Thalmor agent hunting down worshippers of Talos? My lip curled into an angry sneer and I kicked the body off the ledge, listening with satisfaction as it hit the ground far below. The s'wit didn't deserve any mercy, not even if he was dead.

I climbed back up to the shrine, and looked around. There was nothing I could do for those people. I didn't have time to bury them or…

The glint of sunlight reflecting off of something caught my eye. One of the worshippers was holding something. When I knelt down to look I saw it was a bronze amulet in the shape of Talos's sword tied onto a leather cord. I carefully pulled it from the man's hand and wiped it off. If there was ever a sign, it was this. I tied it around my neck and tucked it beneath my shirt, feeling the cool metal on my skin over my heart. I looked back at the bodies of the poor souls, then at the statue of Talos.

Inclining my head to him, I murmured darkly, "I won't forget this. I swear."

* * *

 

Ivarstead was a small village in the Rift, nestled at the base of the Throat of the World. The trees surrounding the village had mostly lost their leaves already, but the ones that still clung stubbornly to their branches were the color of gold or fire. The residents eyed me as I passed down the street. Several shook their heads and I heard them mutter something about "another pilgrim." To the mountain, I guessed. Jarl Balgruuf has mentioned something about making a pilgrimage up to the top before, hadn't he?

The road through the town branched off onto a bridge crossing the river that ran alongside the town. Beyond it I could see the trail leading up the mountain. Two men stood on the bridge. A Bosmer and a Nord. They were talking.

"On your way up the Seven Thousand Steps again, Klimmek?" The mer asked.

The Nord, Klimmek, shook his head. "Not today. I'm just not ready to make the climb to High Hrothgar. The path isn't safe."

"Aren't the Greybeards expecting some supplies?"

"Honestly, I'm not certain. I've yet to be allowed into the monastery. Perhaps one day."

The mer shrugged and walked away, heading back into town. The Nord glanced at me and nodded toward the mountain.

"Passing through on your way to High Hrothgar? About to make a delivery up there myself. Maybe," he said.

"Yes. Anything you can tell me about it?"

He shrugged. "I've been to the monastery many times, but I've never even laid eyes on one of the Greybeards. Not that I'd care to. Being masters of the Thu'um, they could kill you by uttering a single word. Well, not that they would. They seem peaceful, but I wouldn't want to provoke them."

"What delivery are you making up there?"

"Mostly food supplies like dried fish and salted meats. You know, things that keep fresh for a long time. They Greybeards tend not to get out much, if you catch my meaning."

"And what do you get in return?"

"Well, it's kind of an understanding between us," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, it just wouldn't feel right to charge them for a bit of preserved food. Trouble is, my legs aren't what they used to be and climbing the Seven Thousand Steps takes its toll."

I glanced up toward the peak. "I suppose I could take it up for you, since I have to go anyway."

His brows shot up in surprise. "Really? That would be kind of you. Here, take this bag of supplies." He handed me a sack. Kneeling down, I pulled off my pack and tied it on to keep it in place and free my hands. As I worked, he continued, "At the top of the steps you'll see the offering chest. Just leave the bag inside and you're done."

"Anything I should watch out for on the way up?" I asked him as I hoisted my pack back onto my shoulders.

"Well, there's the occasional wolf pack or stray, but that's all I've ever had to deal with. Shouldn't be a problem for the likes of you," he added, eyeing my weapons. "Other than that, watch your footing. In these wintry conditions, the stairs can be treacherous."

"Right. Thanks."

I stepped past him and toward the trail. Sure enough, there were worn stone steps leading up the winding trail that led up to the peak. Taking a deep breath, I began the slow climb to the summit.

* * *

 

" _Occasional wolf,_ he said. That lying s'wit," I snarled as I wrenched one of my arrows out of the troll's corpse. There had, in fact, been several wolves on the way up. They were easy enough to deal with. What he hadn't mentioned was the troll living near the top. I'd barely made it out of that fight in one piece.

I glanced down at the arrow in my hand. Its tip was covered in blood and sticky yellow-white troll fat. Useless. I tossed it aside with a noise of disgust and kept trudging through the ankle-deep snow. I'd seen a few others on the mountain with me. Pilgrims, all of them at the small shrines that dotted the trail. I hadn't stopped. There wasn't time for that. So I'd just kept going. I'd almost made it to the end when I ran into that gods-damned troll. When I rounded the corner of the gorge that the trail cut through, I saw it.

The High Hrothgar monastery was a long building that stretched across the mountain and was made of large gray stone blocks. It was lit by the light of the setting sun. One tall turret rose from the middle. Along the walls I could see a number of small windows. At the very front the pilgrims seemed to have erected an altar of some kind. Drakes littered the ground, as well as flowers whose petals were coated with shimmering frost. On either side of the altar a set of stairs led up to the monastery's doors.

I carefully stepped around the offerings so as not to crush them and opened the chest at the back. That was where Klimmek had said to put the supplies. I did, closing the chest's lid again, and made my way up toward the doors leading inside the building.

When I opened the door, I stepped into a hall that was dark and drafty. A few braziers were lit in the corners, but they did little more than cast long shadows on the cold stone walls. I pulled down my hood and took a few more cautious steps forward. My footsteps echoed through the room. Out of the corner of my eye I saw several figures in hooded gray robes stepping out of shadowed doorways. The Greybeards. One of them came to me, while the rest hung back warily.

"So," he said in a hoarse voice, "a Dragonborn appears at this moment in the turning of the age."

"I'm answering your summons."

"Yes. We will see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn. Let us taste of your voice." When I hesitated, remembering what it had done the  _last_  time I'd tried, he said, "Do not be afraid. Your Shout will not harm us."

I nodded and took a deep breath. The sound crept up onto the tip of my tongue and I released it. A pulse shot through the air. The Greybeard staggered, but only for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now tell me, why have you come here?"

Wasn't it obvious? "Like I said, I was answering your summons."

He bowed slightly and said, "We are honored to welcome a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of your destiny."

"And what  _is_  my destiny?" I asked him, feeling wary.

"That is for you to discover. We can show you the Way, but not your destination."

I took a deep breath. No going back now. "I'm ready to learn."

"Very well. We shall begin in the morning. For now I shall show you to your room."

He led me down one of the halls branching off of the main chamber and into a small room. Like the rest of the monastery, it was small and cold. Arngeir bowed and left me alone. Sighing, I dropped my pack near the bed and sat down. I tugged my boots off, but otherwise remained clothed as I curled up in the blanket that covered the bed. It was too cold for anything else.

As sleep crept into my mind, I wished not for the first time that I wasn't so alone.

* * *

 

_"Finally getting over your weakness, are you?" She laughed. Her red hair glowed as flames licked at the wavy strands._

_"Leave me alone," I snapped._

_The shadow version of myself smirked. "I'm you, remember? I can't go anywhere. And every step you take brings you closer to_ this. _"_

_"You're lying."_

_"Am I? You recognize what I did in the grove, don't you? Shouting. You can do that now as well._ Dreh ni krif daar.  _This is your fate."_

_"Stop."_

_"Make me."_

I sat up with a sharp gasp. I was in the small room the Greybeards gave me in High Hrothgar, shivering from the chill. Arngeir stood in the doorway. Behind him, I could see that it was still dark outside the monastery's windows.

"Come," he said. I nodded and got to my feet, tugging on my boots.

I followed him back out into one of the side chambers where another of the Greybeards was waiting.

"You have shown that you are Dragonborn," Arngeir said. "You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen. Without training, you have already taken the first steps toward projecting your Voice into a Thu'um, a Shout. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn.

"When you shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of Words of Power. As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger. Master Einarth will now teach you "Ro," the second Word in Unrelenting Force."

"That's what I've been doing?" I asked him. He nodded.

"Ro means "Balance" in the dragon tongue. Combine it with Fus – "Force" – to focus your Thu'um more sharply."

Einarth pointed to a piece of parchment marked with the strange letters like the ones I'd seen on the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow. The letters of the dragon language, I realized.

" _Ro_ ," he whispered. Despite the forced quiet of his voice, power still tingled in the air.

" _Ro_ ," I murmured in response. Unlike before, I could actually make out the letters. Yes.  _Ro._ I could see it now. The letters buzzed in my head and sizzled through my veins.

Arngeir was watching me. I glanced over at him.

"You learn a new word like a master… You truly do have the gift," he said, sounding almost reverent. "But learning a Word of Power is only the first step. You must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the  _rest_ of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain dragon's life force and knowledge directly. Now let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu'um."

The two Greybeards led me into the main chamber where the others were already waiting. Einarth took his place among the others.

Arngeir led me to stand across from them and told me, "Use your Unrelenting Force shout to strike the targets as they appear."

I nodded and he stepped back. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I tensed, waiting.

" _Fiik lo sah!"_

A ghostly image of the Greybeard who had shouted appeared in front of me. I concentrated on the words, let them build on my tongue, and released.

" _Fus ro!_ "

As before a pulse of energy shot from my mouth. This one was stronger, however, and dissipated the apparition. I glanced over at Arngeir. He nodded slowly.

"Well done, Dragonborn. You learn quickly. Again."

* * *

 

I stayed for a week, the Greybeards teaching me what they could about the dragon language and the Thu'um, as they called it. The words they spoke to me and showed me how to read and write felt… eerily natural. I still struggled somewhat, but there was an undeniable sense of rightness about it. Soon I was able to pronounce and read some basic words.

They also kept me busy practicing using my Voice. The strange sensation that it sent racing through me every time I used the power slowly died away as I became more and more accustomed to using it. As soon as that became easier, they started teaching me how to use other Shouts.

We stood in the snow-filled courtyard behind the main building of the monastery. I crossed my arms and tried to ward off as much of the chill as I could. The icy wind from the mountaintop blew a few loose strands of red hair across my face. The most recent word they'd taught me how to use was  _Wuld._ "Whirlwind." Now they were having me test it.

I waited behind Arngeir and another Greybeard. Some distance away the Greybeard named Borri waited by a metal gate.

"Master Wulfgar will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint. Then it will be your turn," Arngeir explained. He nodded to the two other Greybeards. Borri Shouted and the gate swung wide. Wulfgar Shouted as well and an instant later he was through. The gate closed behind him.

I swallowed hard. Where Wulfgar had stopped was awfully close to a cliff edge. If I were to fall from the mountain at that height…

"Now it is your turn. Stand next to me. Master Borri will open the gate. Use the Shout to pass through before it closes."

I readied myself, forcing the worrying thought from my mind. Every muscle in my body was taught as a bowstring.

" _Bex!_ " I heard Borri Shout.

" _Wuld!_ "

Air whistled past my ears and for an instant it felt like I was falling. Then I slammed to an abrupt halt a foot or two in front of Wulfgar, who stood between me and the cliff's edge. A slight smile touched his lips and he nodded approvingly. I fought desperately to catch my breath as I stood there. My head spun and my heart raced wildly.

When I finally felt as if I could walk without falling over I trudged back across the courtyard to where Master Arngeir waited. The Greybeard looked me over appraisingly.

"Your quick mastery of the Thu'um is… astonishing. I'd heard the stories of the abilities of the Dragonborn, but to see it for myself…"

"I don't know how I do it. It just… happens," I told him, shrugging lightly.

"You were given this gift by the gods for a reason," he insisted. "It is up to you to figure out how best to use it. You are now ready for your last trial. Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the voice, and you will return."

"I must ask… do you know why the dragons are returning?" I hesitated for a moment and added, "And does it have something to do with me?"

He nodded slowly and my heart sank. "No doubt. The appearance of a Dragonborn at this time is not an accident. Your destiny is surely bound up with the return of the dragons. You should focus on honing your Voice, and soon your path will be made clear."

"Very well. I will continue my training."

"Good. Then you will be ready for whatever lies ahead."

One could only hope that were true.


	8. Rising

Ustengrav was an old tomb buried deep in the misty swamps outside the city of Morthal. Between the necromancers that had moved into the ruin's upper levels, the hordes of draugr below, and the numerous traps that filled the halls in the middle, I was tired and irritated by the time I reached the last chamber.

I pulled the chain and the metal gate slid up into the ceiling to allow me to pass through the doorway. On the other side was a burial chamber. Several pillars lined the room, holding up the vaulted ceiling. A set of stairs led down to a stone walkway that ran down the middle of the room, flanked on either side by pools of water. At the far end I saw what I could only assume was Jurgen Windcaller's tomb set onto a short platform.

As I crossed the walkway, carved stone statues of what I assumed were dragons rose from the water with a loud rumbling sound. I tried not to shiver as I felt the statues' eyes staring down at me.

The coffin itself was also made of stone and carved with reliefs of flying dragons as well as the word  _Windcaller_ in daedric script. The platform was covered in long-since burned out candles covered in dust. At the top of the tomb was a stone hand lifted upward, fingers curled in to grasp the horn.

Except it wasn't there. In its place was a rolled up piece of paper. Unlike everything else in the tomb, it seemed new. Heart racing, I snatched it out of the hand's grip and unrolled it. My eyes scanned the page.

_Dragonborn,_

_I need to speak to you. Urgently._

_Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you._

_– A Friend_

The paper crumpled in my fingers as my lips twisted in irritation. What was so important that they had taken the damn horn? And how in Talos's holy name had they gotten down there before me?

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

 

The innkeeper was sweeping near the hearth when I approached. Her blue-grey eyes narrowed with suspicion. "If it isn't that visitor been pokin' around."

"Friendly."

She kept sweeping. "I'm the innkeeper. It's my business to keep track of strangers. Now what can I do for you?"

"I want to rent the attic room," I said.

The monotonous scrape of bristles against the flagstone abruptly ceased. The woman's pale eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. "Attic room, eh? Well, we don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home."

I stared at her and wondered if I should ask again. Then I shook my head and went in anyway. Maybe she was working with whoever took the horn. I sat down in the chair, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my thighs. There wasn't really anyone else at the inn, so I figured I had to wait. It didn't take as long as I'd expected. Footsteps approached moments later and I looked up. It was the innkeeper again. Gods, the woman was getting on my nerves.

Before I could say anything, she whispered, "So  _you're_ the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about. I think you're looking for this." She dropped an object into my lap. An old horn.

I floundered for a moment. "How–"

"Not here. Follow me."

I got up and she led me through the main room and through a door on the other side, which she promptly shut behind us. I tried to speak, but she shook her head again. Going over to a wardrobe, she opened it and reached in. There was a  _click_ and the back panel slid away, revealing a hidden set of stairs. She stepped in, and I followed.

"Now we can talk." She said once the ground leveled out. "The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. I hope they're right."

We were in a small chamber lined with stone walls. I walked around, taking it all in. It wasn't what I'd expected to find anywhere in Riverwood. There was a rack of weapons, shelves full of potions and ingredients, a training dummy in the corner.

"So you're the one that took the horn," I murmured.

"Surprised? I guess I'm getting pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act."

I turned to face her and spread my arms. "Here I am. Now what do you want?"

She scowled. "I didn't go to all this trouble on a whim. I needed to make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap." With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "I am  _not_  your enemy. I already gave you the horn. I'm actually trying to help you. I just need you to hear me out."

"Well, you'd better start explaining. Fast."

"I'll explain what I want, when I want, got it? You'd already be dead if I didn't like the look of you when you walked in here." I doubted  _that_. "But I had to know if the rumors about you were true… I'm part of a group that's been looking for you… well, someone  _like_ you, for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn, that is. Before I tell you any more, I need to make sure I can trust you."

I wasn't sure I could trust her either, but I kept that to myself. "Why are you looking for a Dragonborn, anyway?" I asked. One of the swords on the wall caught my eye. I walked over.

"We remember what most don't; that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragonslayer." She watched me walk away and continued, "You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul. Can you?"

"Can I what?" I was busy staring at the sword on the wall. The style of the one-edged blade was very, very familiar. But it couldn't be the same. It couldn't possibly. Not here.

"Can you devour a dragon's soul?"

I shrugged. "I absorb some kind of power. Beyond that, I can't say."

"This is no time to play reluctant hero. You either are or you aren't Dragonborn. But I'll see for myself soon enough."

"Hmm. So what's the part you aren't telling me?"

"Dragons aren't just coming back," she explained. "They're coming back to  _life._  They weren't gone somewhere for all these years. They were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. Now something's happening to bring them back and I need you to help me stop it."

"And you're sure they're actually being brought back?"

She nodded. "I know they are. I've visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty. I've figured out where the next one will come back to life. We're going to go there and you're going to kill that dragon. If we succeed I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"You do realize how insane this sounds, right?" I asked her after a long pause.

"A few years ago I said almost the same thing to a colleague of mine," she said with a rueful laugh. "Well, it turned out he was right and I was wrong."

"So where are we headed?"

She pointed to a map laid out on the table at the center of the room. "Kynesgrove. There's an ancient dragon burial near there. If we can get there before it happens, maybe we'll learn how to stop it."

"Right. Let's go."

"I need to get into my traveling gear. Give me a minute and I'll be ready."

I walked back up out of the secret room and waited for her above. Minutes later she returned, garbed in leather armor. A sword was strapped to one hip and a curved dagger to the other. She sealed the panel and closed the wardrobe doors.

Nodding to the inn's main room, she said, "Let's get on the road to Kynesgrove."

As we made for the door, she called back, "Orgnar. I'm travelling. You've got the inn 'til I get back."

The man behind the bar nodded and lifted the tankard he was cleaning in a kind of salute. "Right. Happy trails."

The woman led me down the street. "This way. We'll cross the White River and follow it to Windhelm. Then we can swing south to Kynesgrove."

We took the road leading north from Riverwood toward Whiterun. For a long time things were quiet except for the rhythmic sound of our boots on the path and the wind rustling through the pine trees on either side.

"So, "Dragonborn"…"

"I have a name," I grumbled. "Mara."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked me over. Then she looked away and said, "Delphine."

"Charmed."

Her lips twisted slightly in irritation. "Well, I'm glad you were willing to trust me. I know it probably wasn't the best way to introduce myself, but… old habits. You know."

I did.

"You're younger than I expected."

I glared at her. "I am more than capable of dealing with all of this."

"Maybe. Still, I don't want you to get yourself killed before we even get there." She let out a short laugh and quickly sobered again. "I hope you're Dragonborn, I really do. We'll find out soon enough."

* * *

 

Upon reaching Windhelm days later we headed southeast on the road leading to Kynesgrove. We finally turned off when the road split to run through a break in a low stone wall that ran alongside the main path. Ahead I saw the outlines of a number of stocky wooden buildings.

"This is Kynesgrove," Delphine told me as we walked. "Not much to look at. There's an inn here. The Braidwood. I hear they serve a nice dark ale. Nothing on the Sleeping Giant, of course."

"Of course," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"The innkeeper ought to be able to tell us if there's any dragon mound nearby." She hesitated, frowning. "Wait. Something's wrong."

At that moment a woman ran down the hill toward us, waving her arms frantically in the air.

"No, you don't want to go up there!" She shouted. "A dragon… it's attacking!"

I looked up at the sky and frowned. "A dragon is attacking Kynesgrove?"

The woman shrugged helplessly. "Well, I don't know. Not yet. It flew over the town and landed on the old dragon mound!" She pointed up the road ahead. "I don't know what it's doing up there, but I'm not waiting around to find out!"

As she hurried off Delphine and I looked at each other.

"Come on. We might be too late."

I followed Delphine as she ran up the road the woman had indicated. Moments later I heard a guttural roar that sent chills down my spine. There  _was_  a dragon up there. Moments later I saw its massive spiked form in the sky above the hill, shadowed in the growing dark.

"Lorkhan's eyes! Look at that big bastard!" Delphine breathed. "Keep your head down. Let's see what it does."

She dropped into a low crouch and I followed suit. Together we crept forward a few feet and peered out from around a large boulder to see what was happening.

The dragon pumped its wings as it hovered in the air. Below it was a mound lined with cut stone blocks. As the dragon spoke, its words laced with power, the mound cracked. There was a loud  _boom_ like thunder.

"Steady. I don't know what's happening. Let's watch and wait." She leaned forward, one hand curled into a fist against the boulder and brow furrowed as she watched the scene unfold. "This is worse than I thought…"

The mound burst apart and from beneath crawled out the massive skeleton of a dragon. As I watched the bones burst into flames that quickly died away to reveal flesh and scales. It inclined its horned head to the dragon above it in reverence and spoke. I didn't know the words.

Then the dragon in the air turned his head and his flaming eyes fixed on me. I knew those eyes. It was the same black dragon who had attacked Helgen. I inhaled sharply and he seemed to sneer at me.

"You do not even know our tongue, do you?" He asked me, his deep rumbling voice filled with disgust. "Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of  _dovah._ "

He said something to the other dragon that sounded an awful lot like an order before flying off. It didn't take much to imagine what when the second dragon threw back his head and roared, releasing a jet of flames into the sky.

"I would suggest running," I told Delphine.

I dashed off and heard footsteps that told me she was doing the same in the other direction. The dragon leapt into the sky, the wind from his wings sending dust flying. Covering my eyes, I ducked out of the way. I drew my sword and waited.

When he swooped down toward me, I ran forward and jumped, stabbing my blade through the membrane of his left wing and tearing a long hole in the skin. I fell to the ground, landing on my back and letting out a gasp. The dragon roared and crashed headlong into the nearby trees, ripping several up from the earth by their roots.

I was up first, staggering over to him. Whether it was sweat or blood I felt trickling down the side of my face, it didn't matter. Not at that moment.

Stopping before his head, we glared at each other. He opened his great jaws wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp fangs nearly as long as my arm. Without hesitation, I stabbed my sword up through the roof of his mouth. I wrenched it free and quickly stepped back as the dragon seemed to crumple.

As before the corpse started to burn. I closed my eyes, jaw clenching at the jarring feeling of the impact as I absorbed the dragon's soul. My head buzzed unpleasantly as the sensation faded.

" _Gods above…_ " A voice gasped. I opened my eyes and turned around to see Delphine standing behind me. She stared at me and murmured, "It's true, isn't it? You really  _are_  Dragonborn."

"It would seem so," I said, lowering my blade.

"I owe you some answers, don't I?"

"That would be nice."

Delphine spread her hands. "Go ahead. Whatever you want to know. Nothing held back."

"All right. Who are you and what do you want with me?" I asked.

"I'm one of the last members of the Blades."

My first response was satisfaction. I knew I recognized the style of that sword. Then a chill crept down my spine as the meaning of her words really sunk in. One of the last of the Blades, she'd said. One of the  _last_.

She didn't seem to notice my reaction as she went on, "A very long time ago the Blades were dragonslayers and we served the Dragonborn, the greatest dragonslayer. For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn emperor, the Blades have been searching for the Dragonborn to guide and guard, as we are sworn to do, but we never found one. Until now."

My heart gave a painful twinge and I looked away. From following Martin… to following  _me?_  It felt wrong. So wrong. I had been one of them once.

"You said you're one of the last. How?" I asked quietly.

"The Thalmor, that's how," Delphine spat. "Before the Great War, the Blades helped the Empire against the Thalmor. Our Grand Master saw them as the greatest threat to Tamriel. At the time, that was true. Maybe it still is. So we fought them in the shadows all across Tamriel. We thought we were more than a match for them. We were wrong."

Everything, every problem, always came back to the Thalmor. It was both unsettling and infuriating. I'd been gone for  _all of it._

"All this time, the Blades have been searching for a purpose," she went on. "Now that dragons are coming back, our purpose is clear again: we need to stop them."

"So what do you actually know about the dragons coming back?"

She scowled. "Not a damn thing. I was just as surprised as you to find that big black dragon here."

"Well, I'm one up on you, then," I said, letting out a bitter laugh. "I've seen that s'wit before."

She stared at me, shocked. "Really?  _Where?_ "

"He was the one that attacked Helgen when Ulfric escaped."

"Interesting. Same dragon…" The Blades's fists clenched and she started pacing. "Damn it, we're blundering around in the dark here! We need to figure out who's behind it all!"

I leaned against a nearby boulder and crossed my arms. "What's our next move here?"

"The first thing we need to do is figure out who's behind this. The Thalmor are our best lead. If they aren't involved, they'll know who is."

"Not surprising, but humor me anyway: why are you so sure it's them?" I asked.

She stopped and faced me, hands on her hips, as she explained, "Nothing solid –  _yet_  – but my gut tells me it can't be anybody else. The Empire had captured Ulfric. The war was basically over. Then a dragon attacks, Ulfric escapes, and the war is back on. Now the dragons are attacking everywhere indiscriminately. Skyrim is weakened. The  _Empire_ is weakened. Who else gains from that but the Thalmor?"

"So, we need to find out what the Thalmor know about the dragons. Any ideas?"

"If we could get into the Thalmor Embassy… It's the center of their operations in Skyrim…" She rubbed her temples and sighed. "Problem is that place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse. They could teach  _me_  a few things about paranoia."

"If that's the case, how do we get in?"

"I'm not sure yet. I have a few ideas, but I'll need some time to pull things together."

I straightened. "Right. When you figure it out, I'll be in Whiterun. Probably."

"I'll let you know when I have something. Keep an eye on the sky. This is only going to get worse."


	9. Ultimatum

It was General Tullius who actually contacted me first, summoning me back to Castle Dour in Solitude. When I arrived he handed me a sealed letter.

"I need someone I can trust to deliver a message of great import to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun," he told me. "We have it on good authority that Ulfric has raised enough men to attack the city of Whiterun. The Jarl, however, refuses the Legion's support."

From what I knew of the man, I was entirely unsurprised.

"This missive should convince him. Be aware, soldier. These documents contain sensitive intelligence for the Jarl's eyes  _only._ "

"Understood, sir. I won't fail you."

* * *

 

Balgruuf watched me curiously as I approached his throne.

"What is it?"

"I have an important message from General Tullius," I told him.

He rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. "No doubt requesting to garrison his men in my castle. How many times must I deny him? Well? Out with it."

"Ulfric plans to attack Whiterun. The General wants to lend Legion troops."

Balgruuf frowned. "I see. Give the papers to my Steward."

"He said they were for your eyes only," I insisted.

"Don't be daft. Proventus  _is_ my eyes. Just give me the letter. I presume once I have it, I can do as I please with it? Good."

When I held the message out to him he snatched it away. Breaking the seal, he unrolled it and looked it over. His brows knotted together.

"These are… interesting reports," he said slowly. Looking up, he asked, "Proventus, what do you make of all this? If Ulfric were to attack Whiterun…"

"As in all things, lord, caution. I urge us to wait and see."

" _Prey_  waits," Irileth snapped as she came up to stand at the Jarl's other side.

"I'm of a mind with Irileth," Balgruuf agreed. "It's time to act."

Proventus stared at him, shocked. "You plan to march on Windhelm?"

"I'm not a fool, Proventus. I mean it's time to challenge Ulfric to face me as a man, or to declare his intentions."

"He'll do no such thing."

"He was rather straight-forward with Torygg," Irileth pointed out.

"Torygg? He simply walked up to the boy and murdered him!"

"That "boy" was High King of Skyrim."

"I'm not the High King, but neither am I a boy." Balgruuf leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "if Ulfric wants to challenge my rule in the old way, let him. Though I suspect he'll prefer to send his "Stormcloaks" to do it for him."

Irileth crossed her arms and nodded thoughtfully. "True. He's already proven his personal strength. Now he seeks to prove his army's."

"Then might I urge you to consider General Tullius's request?" The steward cut in. "I mean, if you  _are_ bent on offending Jarl Ulfric…"

"Ulfric is the one who has offended… but Proventus has a point. Ulfric has made it clear. In his mind, to refuse his claim is to side with the Empire."

"And what harm is there in letting a few legionnaires die in place of your own men?"

My jaw clenched in anger, but I held my tongue.

Jarl Balgruuf stroked his beard with a frown. "It seems cowardly."

"Was it cowardly then to accept the White-Gold Concordat?"

"This again?" He snapped, glaring at Irileth. "That was different. Was I given a chance to object to the terms of the treaty? No! the Jarls weren't asked. We were told. And we had to like it."

"The chests of gold didn't hurt," Proventus mumbled.

"Damn it! This isn't about gold!"

"It's time to decide," Irileth told him, her voice firm.

"My lord, wait. Let us see if Ulfric is serious."

"Oh, he's serious, but so am I," Balgruuf said darkly. To me, he said, "I have a message for you to deliver to our friend, the esteemed Jarl of Windhelm. Deliver this axe to Ulfric Stormcloak."

I took the axe he handed to me and frowned. "You think Ulfric will just let me waltz in there, no problem?"

"True, he's a dangerous and bloodthirsty man, but he's also a Nord that honors our traditions. Keep your wits about you and you won't be harmed."

"And is there anything I should say to him?"

"Men who understand one another need not waste words. There are but a few simple truths behind one warrior giving another his axe. Ulfric will know my meaning."

I think I did as well. "Understood."

"Good. After you do that, get back here as quickly as you can. Because if Ulfric isn't bluffing, I'll need ever able body to defend Whiterun."

I gave him a slight bow and turned away. As I did, I heard him tell his steward, "Proventus. Bring me my pen. And the good parchment. I'm writing a letter to General Tullius. I need to make a few things clear before I accept these legionnaires of his."

As I hurried down from Dragonsreach I strapped the axe to my belt so that I didn't lose it. My heart pounded. If this worked, Whiterun would be under attack  _very_ soon. Bursting into Breezehome, I called, " _Lydia! Lucia!_ "

They both appeared quickly, Lydia from upstairs and Lucia from her bedroom on the bottom floor.

"What's going on?" The girl asked.

"You both need to get out. Now. Whiterun isn't going to be safe very shortly."

Lydia paled. "Ulfric?"

I nodded. "Take whatever you both can't live without. Go to Riverwood and find the Blacksmith, Alvor. Tell him you're with me. He'll help you. Don't come back here until it's safe."

"I should be  _here_ ," Lydia argued. "I should be fighting."

"You need to keep Lucia safe." Before she could protest further, I told her, "That's an order."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Very well, my Thane."

"Oh, don't start that. You're the only one I trust to watch her, and I can take care of myself. Go.  _Now._ "

* * *

 

It was night when I reached Windhelm. White flakes fell from the dark sky as I crossed the bridge into the city. Icicles hung from the eaves of all of the buildings that lined the streets and braziers of fire lit the cold stone. Moments after passing the city gates, I was bombarded with the sound of harsh voices.

"You come here where you're not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink, and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks!"

Two burly Nords had a lone Dunmer woman backed into a corner. She shuddered, her red eyes flitting between them as she insisted, "We haven't taken a side because it's not our fight."

"Hey," one Nord said as he nudged the other, "maybe the reason these gray-skins don't help in the war is because they're Imperial spies!"

"Imperial spies? You can't be serious!" She gasped.

"Maybe we'll pay you a visit tonight, little spy," one of them sneered. "We got ways of finding out what you  _really_  are."

He shoved her to the ground and they both walked off, laughing to themselves. I hurried over and knelt down beside her. She glared up at me.

"Do you hate the dark elves? Are you here to bully us and tell us to leave?"

Yes, I'd been at the receiving end of hate from a number of Dunmer in Vvardenfell. At the end of a blade, in the case of the Camonna Tong. But it had been a Dunmer who'd hired me in Mournhold when no one else would. Divines bless Sunel for that. Besides, this woman clearly didn't deserve to be treated like  _that_.

"No, I don't hate your people," I told her quietly. Holding out my hand, I helped her to her feet.

"You've come to the wrong city, then," she said, brushing off her skirt. "Windhelm's a haven of prejudice and narrow thinking, unworthy of one such as you."

"Why would anyone think you're a spy?" I asked with a frown.

She shrugged. "Some of these Nords will come up with any excuse to despise us. And it isn't just the dark elves they hate – they make a target of the Argonians as well. In fact, just about anyone who isn't a Nord is fair game for their bullying."

"And do those Nords always give you trouble like that?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Most of the Nords living in Windhelm don't care much for us, but Rolff is the worst by far. He likes to get drunk and walk around the Gray Quarter yelling insults at us in the small hours of the morning. A real charmer, that one."

My eyes narrowed. "Which one's Rolff?"

She pointed to one of the two Nords who'd harassed her, the one with the leather cap that covered his head. I cracked my knuckles and stormed toward him.

"Hey!" I shouted. "N'wah!"

He whirled around, glaring, and spat, "You a dark elf lover? Get out of our city, you filthy piece of trash."

"I don't like your attitude," I snarled.

"Don't like it? Too bad. This is our city.  _Ours!_ "

"Maybe I'll just make you shut your guar-shit mouth."

He snorted and looked me over. "Don't think I can take you? One hundred Septims says I can punch you back where you came from."

"You're on."

He seemed surprised, but quickly brushed it off. "All right. No weapons. And none of that magic stuff either. Let's go!"

He swung his fist at me and I ducked to avoid the blow. Dodging around him, I kicked out hard at the back of one of his knees. His leg gave way beneath him. When he rolled over to face me I dropped to my knees on his chest, pinning him to the street. I raised one fist to slam into his face if he moved.

" _Just try it,_ " I growled.

"That wasn't a fair swing!"

I didn't budge. "You lost. Give me my money."

"Fine," he spat.

I got up, standing just out of his reach just in case. Pulling his purse from his belt, he tossed it to me. With narrowed eyes I watched him as he got to his feet and staggered away. Once he was gone, I hurried back over to the stunned womer.

"Here," I said, holding the purse out to her.

She hesitated. "I don't…"

"I couldn't let that s'wit get away with it. Besides, I have a feeling you need it much more than I do."

She took the purse, holding it to her chest with trembling hands. "Thank you, sera. So much."

"Don't mention it," I murmured. She hurried away and I continued on to the palace.

The guards didn't stop me when I walked inside. That was a good sign, at least. On the throne at the end of the hall was a familiar man dressed all in black. He watched me warily as I approached. I wondered for a moment if he recognized me.

"Yes? Make it quick, I'm a busy man," Ulfric said.

Voice flat, I told him, "I've brought a message from the Jarl of Whiterun."

"Is that so? I've been wondering when he'd come around." His laughter died when I wordlessly held out the axe. "Oh. What's this?"

"Exactly what you think it is."

"Ah. You're quite brave to carry such a message. It's a pity you've chosen the wrong side," he said, looking me over. "You can return this axe to the man who sent it. And tell him he should prepare to entertain… visitors. I expect a great deal of excitement in the city of Whiterun in the near future."

I gave him a cool glare. "We'll be seeing you soon, then."

"Sooner than you think."

* * *

 

I all but ran back to Whiterun. Ulfric's troops would be on the move the instant I left Windhelm, if they weren't out there already. Whiterun needed to be warned. I raced into Dragonsreach behind a harried legionnaire. Tullius's troops had made it. Good.

Everyone was gathered up in the war room when I arrived.

"Sir! I… I have–" the legionnaire gasped, out of breath. A man dressed in a Legion commander's uniform broke away from the war table.

"Take a moment to breathe, soldier," he said.

"But, sir–"

" _Breathe!_ "

"The outer walls are strong," I heard Jarl Balgruuf muse, stroking his beard. "If we can hold them there…"

"They have catapults," the commander said.

"Damn it. Where did they get  _catapults?_ The city walls are already falling apart as it is!"

"My scouts tell me they're loading them with fire."

Balgruuf groaned and leaned forward against the table, bowing his head. "So, he wants to take my city walls intact."

"The men will be fighting in flames."

"My men are fearless. It's the Imperial milk-drinkers I'm worried about."

"If you prefer, I can take my men and leave," the commander snapped.

"No! Of course not. Just… don't let me down, Cipius." When the commander nodded, Balgruuf said to Proventus, "We'll need to set up water brigades to combat the flames."

"Already taken care of," Cipius cut in.

The Jarl shook his head in wonderment. "You Imperials are efficient, I'll give you that. How long until they arrive?"

"Sir?" The legionnaire cut in. They ignored him.

"Not long. They're hiding in the countryside."

"Damn it. What's he waiting for?"

"Sir!"

" _What?_ " Cipius snapped.

"Sir, they're on the move. They'll be at the gates at any moment."

"Why didn't you say so immediately?"

"Sir, I… tried."

"This is it. Time to see what these Stormcloaks are made of. Oblivion take them. Every miserable last one of them," Balgruuf said, straightening and looking at everyone in the room. Then his eyes found me. When I silently held up the axe, he sighed. "I knew that would be his response. As soon as you left, I sent word to General Tullius, who's been kind enough to lend us some of his troops and Legate Cipius here. let Ulfric try to make it past our combined forces."

"Where do you want me?" I asked.

"I'm sure Cipius has some use for you, so I'll turn you over to him. Gods be with us all."

"Get down to the front line," Cipius ordered from the other side of the room. "We must hold the city."

"Yes, sir."

I raced down the stairs and out of the palace. The moment I set foot outside I coughed and my eyes watered from the smoke that filled the air. The attack had begun. Balls of fire soared through the air and some of the houses were burning. Suddenly I was back in the Imperial City as the forces of Oblivion attacked in that final fight. I remembered the look of fear in Martin's eyes as he caught the first glimpse of Mehrunes Dagon in the flesh. Shaking my head to clear away the memory, I hurried through the city and dodged guards trying to get the city's residents to safety.

An array of both warriors from Whiterun and legionnaires waited behind the barricade protecting the city with weapons drawn. On top of the wall above them stood a woman in full armor. Rikke.

"This is it, men!" She shouted down. "This is an important day for the Empire and for the Legion. For all of Skyrim. This is the day we send a message to Ulfric Stormcloak and the rebel Jarls who support him. But make no mistake. What we do here today, we do for Skyrim and her people. By cutting out the disease of this rebellion, we will make this country whole again!"

A blast of fire struck nearby and I winced. Past the barricades I saw shadowy figures running toward us. Rikke raised her sword toward the sky.

"Ready now! Everyone, with me! For the Empire! For the Legion!"

With a roar, the front lines of soldiers charged forward to meet the Stormcloaks, bypassing the barrier. Through the smoke came the sound of clashing metal. I hung back, readying an arrow.

"Fancy seeing you here."

I glanced over to see Hadvar, ready with his own bow. I nodded.

"Haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?" I asked, keeping my eyes focused on the Stormcloaks. At the moment they were busy fighting our men who'd gone out first and I couldn't get a clear shot, but they'd make it to the barricade soon. I was sure of that.

"All right. You?"

I shrugged. "Stressed, mostly. Too many dragons. Too many idiots to deal with."

"Like these rebels?"

"Yes."

Several of them finally broke free of the melee and made a dash for the barricade. I managed to catch one of them in the throat. He went down, but more still kept coming. More arrows shot from the bows of the other archers around me, including Hadvar's. The Stormcloaks pulled back, waiting.

That was when their archers stepped forward. Arrows whizzed overhead and I ducked out of the way. Several of our own soldiers fell, peppered with the rebels' arrows.

"Steady!" Rikke shouted over the sounds of screams and the fire crashing into the city. " _Steady!_ "

There were loud cracks as the Stormcloaks used their axes to break through the wooden barricades. I hurried back, shooting several as they rushed in, but they managed to back me into a corner. One of them knocked the bow from my hands.

"Nowhere to run," one of them taunted. She raised her axe.

Breathing hard, I felt the familiar power curling on my tongue. I released it. The rebels were sent staggering back or crashing into the wall by my Shout. I drew my sword.

"I don't need to," I growled at them.

* * *

 

It was close, but we eventually drove them back. The surviving Stormcloaks ran for it, back to their s'wit of a leader. In the end we hadn't lost as many soldiers as I feared we might. All of them were gathered before the city gates, many sporting some kind of injury. The healers would have their hands full after that.

When I staggered, off-balance, toward the crowd, Hadvar grabbed my arm and hoisted me back up.

"You made it," he chuckled. "I was sure I'd find you face-down in the dirt."

"So was I, for a few minutes there."

"The Jarl wishes to speak!" Irileth shouted at the assembled soldiers from her place at the gate. Everyone went silent. Jarl Balgruuf nodded at her.

Stepping forward, he cried, "Revel in your victory here today, even as the gods revel in your honor! They already sing of your valor and skill! The halls of Sovngarde are no doubt ringing with your praises!"

The soldiers all cheered loudly in response to his words.

"In defeating these Stormcloak traitors, you have proven the hollowness of their cause and the fullness of your hearts," he continued. "The citizens of Whiterun are forever in your debt! But Ulfric will not stop here. No, he will continue to strike out against any true Nord who remains faithful to the Empire! He will continue to sow discord and chaos wherever he can! And so, we must each one of us, continue to fight this insurrection, lest our fallen brothers have died for naught! Lest our honor be lessened should we allow these bloodthirsty beasts to prowl our lands! Carry on men. My gratitude and blessings go with you. For Whiterun! For the Empire!"

The soldiers roared. Then the crowd split, some going to the healers for aid. I remained where I stood. My heart still pounded.

I hadn't wanted to go into battle again. Not after what happened during the Crisis and not after what happened in the Shivering Isles. Yet there I was, and I was growing more and more certain it wouldn't be the last time.

"Are your ears still ringing?" Hadvar asked me. "I hope that goes away."

"I'm not sure it does," I murmured.

He nudged me in the ribs. "Hey. That went pretty well, all things considered. And I'm pretty sure I killed more than you. I was counting."

I allowed myself the barest of smiles in response.


	10. Diplomacy

Lydia and Lucia returned to Whiterun a few days after the siege. Breezehome had, luckily, remained mostly undamaged. Some of the other houses hadn't been so lucky. One of the ones down the street had nearly been levelled. Rebuilding the city would take time, but I was sure we'd manage.

As Lucia rushed into the house and Claudius scampered across the floor, Lydia stopped me in the doorway. Glancing at the street, she handed me a note.

"The innkeeper in Riverwood told me to give this to you," she told me quietly. "She said it was urgent."

"I'm sure it was," I murmured, scanning the parchment.

_Mara,_

_I've figured out a way to see our friends. Meet me at the usual place._

"Right. I've got work to do."

"And you're off again," Lydia sighed. "Try not to get yourself killed, all right?"

"That's not likely, believe me."

* * *

 

Delphine was waiting for me when I entered the Sleeping Giant Inn. After looking around, she told me in a whisper, "Come on, I have a plan."

I followed her back down to her secret room beneath the inn. Once we were alone, she said, "I've figured out how we're going to get you into the Thalmor Embassy."

I hesitated at that. You, she'd said. As in  _me_. Just me.

"You're not coming?"

She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "That would be a bad idea. I'd be too likely to attract the wrong kind of attention, but they don't know you at all yet."

Thank the Divines for that. If they had any idea who I really was…

"So, what's your plan?" I asked her as I crossed my arms and leaned against the stone wall. "How am I getting into the Embassy?"

"The Thalmor ambassador, Elenwen, regularly throws parties where the rich and connected cozy up to the Thalmor. I can get you into one of those parties. Once you're inside the Embassy, you get away and find Elenwen's secret files. I have a contact inside the Embassy. He's not up for this kind of high-risk mission, but he can help you. His name's Malborn. Wood elf, plenty of reason to hate the Thalmor. You can trust him."

"You're sure of that?" I asked her, feeling skeptical.

"Don't worry about Malborn. He's not a dangerous character like you, but he hates the Thalmor at least as much as I do. Like I said, he's a wood elf. The Thalmor wiped out his family back in Valenwood during one of their purges that we never hear about. Luckily they don't know who he really is, or he wouldn't be serving drinks at the Ambassador's parties. I'll get word for him to meet you in Solitude, at the Winking Skeever. You know it?"

The inn near the city gates in Solitude. I nodded.

"While you're doing that, I'll work on getting you an invitation to Elenwen's party. Meet me at the Solitude stables after you've arranged things with Malborn. Any questions?"

"No. I'll see you there."

"Sounds good. Be careful."

* * *

 

The Winking Skeever was relatively empty when I stepped inside. It was late in the morning, and there were only a bare handful of patrons about. At the back of the main room, sitting at one of the tables, was a lone Bosmer. I made my way over and sat down in the only other chair. He frowned at me, his sharp brows knotting together.

Leaning forward, I said quietly, "Our mutual friend sent me."

"Really? You're who she picked?" He asked me, shocked. My lips pursed in irritation as he went on, "I hope she knows what she's doing…"

"I'm the only one who can do this, so yes."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Here's the deal. I can smuggle some equipment into the embassy for you. Don't plan on bringing anything else in with you. The Thalmor take security  _very_ seriously."

"Noted," I said. I pulled off my sword, bow, and quiver of arrows and placed them on the table, along with a couple lockpicks.

He gathered the things up and got to his feet. "Okay, I'll get this inside the Embassy for you. I've got to go. I'll find you at the party, don't worry."

He hurried away and I got up as well. The party wasn't until nightfall. What was I supposed to do for the several hours I still had left until then? As I stepped out onto the street, I immediately heard the sound of footsteps running toward me and turned just in time to see someone grab onto my arm. I staggered backward.

"You! You'll help me! You still help people, right? That's what you do?" The Bosmer begged in a harried voice. His clothes were ragged, but there was something… faintly familiar about him. I frowned in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"My master has abandoned me!" He whimpered. "Abandoned his  _people!_ And nothing I say can change his mind. Now he refuses to even see me. He says I interrupt his vacation! It's been so many years… Won't you please help?"

I squinted at him and suddenly I realized where I'd seen him before. The muscles in my jaw clenched.

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice taking on a harsh edge.

"Last I saw him, he was visiting a friend in the Blue Palace. But no one as mundane as the Jarl. No, no… such people are below him."

"Of course they are," I ground out.

"He went into the forbidden wing of the palace to speak with an old friend. Said it had been ages since they last had tea. Oh, and you'll need the hip bone. It's very important. No entering Pelagius's Wing without that."

He handed an ancient human pelvis to me and I took it gingerly, wrinkling my nose.

"I'll get him back, don't worry about  _that_. In fact, I want a word or two with him myself."

I left the Bosmer and hurried over toward the Blue Palace at the other end of the city. Once I made it in there I crept over to the only door that looked like it hadn't been touched in ages and carefully picked the lock. I inched the door open so that it didn't creak and slipped inside.

The rooms inside were musty and full of cobwebs. He  _would_ pick a place like that. Of course he would. I cautiously walked along, brushing aside the curtains of spiderwebs that blocked my way as I searched for any sign of him.

I turned down onto a dusty hallway, only to find myself standing in a misty clearing a moment later. I blinked. Shadowy, gnarled trees ringed the area and a table smothered in all kinds of food stood in the center. Two men sat at it. One was middle-aged, his lank blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, with a look on his face that was somewhere between tension and exhaustion. The other was dressed in a purple suit and had a short, pointed white beard. He was familiar. Too familiar.

"My dear, sweet, homicidally insane Pelagius, what would the people do without you?" Sheogorath asked the other man. "Dance? Sing? Grow old?"

I took a few steps forward and noticed an odd rustling. Looking down, I noticed that, somehow, I was again wearing the Raiment I'd been given during my stint as Duchess of the Dementia region of the Shivering Isles. My hair was done up in a braided bun and an elaborate crown made of black gems and raven feathers rested on my head.

"Pull up a chair, my dear, and join the party!" He called to me. "Don't be a stranger. Unless, of course, you  _are_  a stranger and I'm mistaking you for another redheaded woman I once knew."

"No it's still me."

He had been expecting me. At one of the place a contorted white teacup rested on a flamboyantly painted saucer. I lifted the cup, which was filled with black tea, and took a small, wary sip.

Gods, I missed sujamma.

"I never seem to see your eyes anymore," the Madgod commented, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands, "perhaps I will take them, just to know they still exist."

"Do. I have no use for them. I've seen all there is worth seeing."

"My dear, you are becoming far too serious… or perhaps not serious enough."

I shrugged. "Who can tell?"

He laughed. "Pelagius, have you met this fine woman? This is Mara Fides. The one I told you about, not the goddess with a stunning lack of humor."

"It's not like I have a great one either," I grumbled. Pelagius, for his part, looked mildly interested. Sheogorath was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Mara, my dear, this is Emperor Pelagius Septim the Third. Or, more commonly, Pelagius the Mad. The greatest Septim that's ever ruled! Well, except for that Martin fellow, but he turned into a  _dragon,_ and that's hardly sporting–"

Without thinking, I abruptly stood and snatched a knife from the table, pointing the blade right at him.

" _Don't you dare say his name!_ " I snarled.

"Sore spot that, isn't it?" He asked with a smirk. "The little hero couldn't save her prince. Such a risky thing, love. It's entirely madness."

My hand shook and clenched around the hilt of the knife until my knuckles turned white. Tears stung in my eyes. " _I will use this._ "

"And what do you – tiny, puny, expendable little mortal – think you can do to me?"

"In case you've forgotten," I growled, "I'm not  _mortal._ Not anymore."

We glared at each other from across the table before Pelagius cut in with a loud sigh, "If you're both just going to argue…"

Sheogorath  _humphed_ loudly. "Well then, if you're going to be like that, perhaps it's best I take my leave. A good day to you, sir. I said good day!"

"Yes, yes. Go. Leave me to my ceaseless responsibilities and burdens…"

The Daedric Prince snapped his fingers and Pelagius vanished in a flash of purple light.

"How rude!" He scoffed. "Can't be bothered to host an old friend for a decade or two… Now then, why have you decided to grace this old Daedric Prince with your presence?"

I lowered the knife. Slowly. "I met a Bosmer out on the street who I was sure used to be a priest of Mania. Dervenin, I think. He begged me to retrieve you from your vacation."

"Really?" He asked, silvery eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You came all the way out here for that?"

"No, but it did tell me exactly where to find you."

"Clever girl. Or, perhaps not so clever. What is it that you want?"

"Is my mother still alive?"

His gold eyes flashed and he grinned at me. "Yes. Hasn't aged a day since you were in the Isles."

My heart pounded. Ma was alive. "I did what you wanted. Give her back."

"Very well. I'll release the damsel."

I blinked. He'd let her go? Just like  _that?_

Sheogorath leaned back in his chair and cocked his head to the side. "Is there anything else?"

I hesitated.

"Yes," I said slowly. "I want to keep this dress."

* * *

 

Delphine was waiting for me when I arrived at the stables, leaning in the shadows against a nearby building. She took one look at me and let out a long, surprised whistle.

"Where'd you get that dress?" She asked.

"I ran into an old…  _acquaintance_  of mine who owed me."

"And did you give Malborn the gear you wanted to smuggle into the Embassy?"

I nodded. "Malborn's all set."

"Good. I have you invitation to the party."

She handed me a folded slip of paper. I opened it.

_Elenwen, First Emissary of the Aldmeri Dominion to the kingdom of Skyrim_

_Requests the Pleasure of the Company of_

_Mara of Whiterun Hold_

_At a New Life Gala on 1 Morning Star, 202 at the Ambassador's Residence._

_Regrets only. Formal Attire Requested._

"The only way you're going to get past the guards is if they really believe you're an invited guest," Delphine said. She looked over my appearance with a critical eye. "I guess this will do. You should pass for a real guest, at least until you open your mouth."

I glared at her. "Thank you for that vote of confidence."

"We just can't afford for anything to go wrong." She sighed and nodded to a carriage that was waiting some distance away. "Ready to board the carriage to the Embassy?"

"Yes." Divines, yes. I just wanted to get it all over with.

"All right. I'll be waiting for you when you get back. Just make  _sure_ you get back out of there alive with the information we need."

"Don't worry. This isn't the first time I've crashed a party." All I could do was hope it went better than the last time. "I'll get that information for you."

The Blade nodded. "Good luck."

She went one way and I went the other. When I climbed into the back of the carriage, the driver started off, taking me up a road leading into the woods.

An hour or so later I arrived at what I assumed was the Embassy. A fence topped with metal spikes surrounded the compound. The carriage passed through the front gate and stopped in a courtyard beside several other carriages. A Redguard was just walking in when we stopped.

"Ah!" He said, looking up at me. "A fellow latecomer to Elenwen's little soiree. And arriving by carriage, no less! I salute you, my good lady!"

I carefully climbed down, my shoes crunching softly against the light layer of snow that coated the ground. Unsure of what to say, I kept silent. The man didn't seem to notice.

"My lateness is due more to getting lost on the way up this gods-forsaken mountain than to any desire to  _actually_ arrive late," he rambled on. "I prefer to arrive early, often the day before the party so as not to miss out on any of the drinking."

"It's the day of New Life. It would have been perfect for that."

He snorted.

As I approached the stairs to the main building, a guard dressed in gilded armor and holding a torch stopped me.

"Welcome to the Thalmor Embassy," she said. "Your invitation, please."

I held it out to her. She took it from me and looked it over. A moment later she stepped aside and gestured to the stairs.

"Thank you, ma'am. Go right in."

As I climbed the stairs I heard the other guest say to the guard, "Now then. Here's my invitation, I don't have a poisoned dagger strapped to my thigh, et cetera, et cetera."

Biting back a smirk, I stepped into the Embassy.

The moment I passed the threshold, I was bombarded by light and warmth. Black and gold silk banners covered the stone walls. In the middle of the room, a crowd of guests milled about, chatting to one another. Servants slipped through the crowd carrying trays of bite-sized pieces of food. Somewhere on the other side of the room, a musician was playing a flute.

I'd barely had time to take any of it in when I was approached by a tall Altmer dressed in midnight-colored robes. Her hair was combed back, away from her sharp face, and her golden eyes were rimmed with black. She eyed me with interest.

"Welcome," she said to me. "I don't believe we've met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are?"

So this was the notorious head of the Thalmor in Skyrim. I felt a slow smile spread across my face. "You're Elenwen? I've heard so much about you."

She seemed somewhat shocked at my response. "Have you? All good, I trust. But you have me at a disadvantage. I'm afraid I know nothing about you. Please, tell me more about–"

At that moment a familiar voice cut in from somewhere nearby, "Madam Ambassador, I am  _so_ sorry to interrupt…"

"What is it, Malborn?" Elenwen snapped. I finally caught sight of him, leaning out from behind a bar set into an archway.

"It's just that we've run out of the Alto wine. Do I have your permission to uncork the Arenthia red–?"

"Of course! I've told you before not to bother me with such trifles." Turning back to me, she schooled her features back into an air of pleasantness. "My apologies. We'll have to get better acquainted later."

I inclined my head. "I look forward to it."

"Until then, please, enjoy yourself."

Once she was gone, I hurried over to Malborn.

"You made it in. Good," he said quietly. "As soon as you distract the guards, I'll open this door and we can get you on your way. Let's hope with both live through this."

Distract the guards. How was I supposed to distract the guards? Starting a fire was too risky, and spilling or breaking something would draw too much attention to myself. My gaze finally settled on the Redguard I'd met outside. He sat on a bench beneath one of the windows with his arms crossed and looking thoroughly disgruntled. I heard him grumble, "What does a fellow need to do to get a drink around here…?"

Turning back to Malborn, I said, "Give me a drink. Something strong."

"Here you go, ma'am. The finest Colovian brandy."

I stared at the glass he handed me. "You call this strong?"

" _It's what I have_ ," he hissed.

It would have to do. Taking the brandy, I sidled over to the Redguard.

"I brought you something," I murmured, holding the glass out to him.

He took it from me, cackling, "Ah, the one generous soul amongst a gathering of pinch-pennies and lick-spittles! If there's  _anything_  I can ever do for you, do not hesitate to call upon me!"

"Actually, there is something you can do."

"Wonderful! I can begin to repay your generosity immediately. Say on, friend."

Lowering my voice, I said, "I need you to cause a scene. Get everyone's attention for a few minutes."

"Is  _that_ all?" He cackled again. "My friend, you've come to the right person. You could say that causing a scene is… somewhat a  _specialty_ of mine. Stand back and behold my handiwork."

I quickly stepped aside and watched as he marched into the center of the room. Raising his glass into the air, he shouted, "Attention, everyone! Could I have your attention, please! I have an announcement to make! I propose a toast to Elenwen, our mistress!"

"What are you doing?" The Ambassador hissed.

"I speak figuratively, of course. Nothing could be more unlikely than that someone would actually want her in their bed."

All the guards were hurrying over and drawing their weapons.

"Although, most of you are already in bed with her! But again, I speak  _figuratively…_ "

Malborn grabbed my arm and started tugging me back toward the door behind the bar.

"Let's go, let's go! Before anyone notices us."

I hastily followed him back through the door. Malborn shut it behind us, blocking out the sounds of the man telling the guards off.

The Bosmer breathed a sigh of relief. "So far so good. Let's hope nobody saw us slip out. We need to pass through the kitchen. Your gear is hidden in the larder. Just stay close and let me do any talking, got it? Follow me."

He led me through a door at the other end of the small room and into the kitchen. A lone Khajiit was preparing food near the fire. Her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of us.

"Who comes, Malborn? You know I don't like strange smells in my kitchen."

"A guest, feeling ill," he said dismissively. "Leave the poor wretch be."

"A guest? In the kitchens? You know this is against the rules…"

"Rules, is it, Tsavani? I didn't realize that eating Moon Sugar was permitted. Perhaps I should ask the Ambassador–"

She hissed and waved one clawed hand. "Get out of here! I saw nothing."

He opened a door at the far side of the kitchen and we stepped inside. Pointing to a chest in the corner, he told me, "Your gear's in there."

I knelt down and opened the lid. Inside was my sword, bow, quiver of arrows, and lockpicks. Everything was in order.

"You didn't leave me anything for you to change into," Malborn pointed out. "You're not expecting to sneak through the Embassy in  _that,_ are you?"

I smirked. There was a low rustling as the voluminous, lacy black dress shifted into its form as a suit of light, close-fitting armor. Malborn stared at me, blinking with shock.

"I came prepared," I said.

As I strapped on my weapons and tucked away the picks, he seemed to shake out of his surprised state.

"I'll lock the door behind you.  _Don't_ screw this up."

"I wasn't planning on it. Good luck."

"You too. Now go. You're on your own now."

The moment I stepped out the door and into the hall, I heard the lock  _click_ behind me. Crouching down low, I slunk along, sticking to the shadows. Voices came from one of the rooms that led off the hall.

"Did you see those robes march in this morning? Who're they with? More of the Emissary's treaty enforcers?"

"No. They're high mages, just in from Alinor. I guess Herself is finally getting worried about all the dragon attacks."

I peered in through the doorway. Two armored Thalmor guards stood at the other end of the room, facing each other. I crept inside, careful not to make a sound. Nothing in there looked like it would be a place to store important documents. It just seemed like a living area. On the other side of the room was a door. It looked sturdier than the rest of the interior doors, so it probably led outside. I inched toward it.

"I've been wondering how we were supposed to defend this place from a dragon."

"If a dragon  _does_ show up, maybe we'll get lucky and it will eat the mages first. Might give us enough time to kill it."

"Ha. I'd like to see those arrogant bastards taken down a notch. Always looking down their noses at us lowly footsloggers."

I opened the door as they laughed loudly to muffle the sound and slipped outside.

I found myself in another courtyard. Snow covered pines stood tall outside the fence surrounding the place. On the courtyard's other side was another building, smaller than the one I'd just left. Most of the windows were dark. Hearing the sound of armored boots crunching over the snow, I hid behind the low walls ringing the courtyard's sunken middle and snuck toward the other building.

The door let in to a two-storied living area. Tables and benches sat in clusters around the room. A flight of stairs at the back led to the upper level. Just when I thought I was wasting my time, I caught a glimpse of a desk and some shelves in a side room near the back.

"But I need that money!" A man's voice whined from somewhere nearby. "I earned it! I have my own expenses, you know…"

"Silence!"

I froze and held my breath. The second, more imperious voice spoke again a moment later.

"Do not presume, Gissur," he said. "You are most useful, but do not presume. We have other informants who are less… offensive."

I continued across the room. Behind the desk was a barred chest. Pulling out my picks, I opened the lock. Inside were a couple small leather-bound journals, a note, and a key. With a start I noticed that one of the journals was labeled "Delphine." I flipped it open. She was labeled as "high priority," but they didn't seem to know where she was. Good. The other bore the label "Ulfric Stormcloak." I'd save that one for later.

The letter, however was more interesting.

_First Emissary Elenwen,_

_We anticipate a breakthrough in our efforts to uncover the party or power behind the dragon resurrection phenomenon. An informant has identified a possible lead, whom we have brought back to the Embassy for a full interrogation. The subject is obstinate, but by all indications is holding back the information we seek. I have authorized Intermediate Manual Uncoiling – I do not expect more will be necessary, unless you feel time presses._

_I know you prefer to be present for the final questioning; I will inform you immediately when the subject is fully receptive. Two days should tell the tale._

_In the meantime, if you wish to audit our technique, your expertise is welcome, as always. I have placed the prisoner in the cell closest to your office stairs, for your convenience._

_–Rulindil, 3rd Em._

So the Thalmor didn't have the information on the dragons, but they'd captured someone who did?

"But no one else has brought you such valuable information, have they?" The first man insisted loudly from the other room. "Etienne… he's talked, hasn't he? He knows where that old man is you're looking for, he told me himself."

"You'll get the rest of your money when we confirm his story. As agreed."

"So he  _has_ talked! I knew it!"

"Everyone talks in the end. Now, I have work to do. Leave me to it, if you ever want to see the rest of your payment."

They were looking for someone? Knowing the Thalmor, it wouldn't end well.

"Can I… I could help you. He'd talk to me. He trusts me."

"You'd like to come downstairs with me, is that is, Gissur? Shall we loose his bonds and put you in a cell together? You can ask him anything you like, and see how he answers."

"No, no! I'll… I'll wait outside."

"That would probably be best."

So they were keeping their prisoner downstairs. That must have been what the key was for. At the other end of the little room was a doorway leading to a set of stairs. At the bottom was a locked door. Sure enough, the key fit.

I made my way down through a series of short halls to a torture chamber. There was a rack and tables covered in wickedly sharp instruments. A wood-walled room set with metal bars jutted out from one of the walls. Inside I saw an armored guard facing a man chained to the wall. Beneath one of the barred windows, a robed Thalmor sat at a desk, writing on a piece of parchment.

"Stop, please!" The man in the cell begged. "I don't know anything else! Don't you think I'd have told you already?"

"Silence. You know the rules," the guard snapped.

From his place at the desk, the Thalmor said in a bored voice, "Let's begin again. Start at the beginning, as usual." Silence. "If you persist in this stubbornness, I'll have…"

"No, wait! I was just… catching my breath… Why wouldn't I tell you again? I don't even know anything… There's an old man. He lives in Riften. He could be this Esbern you're looking for, but I don't know. He's old and seemed kind of crazy. That's all I know."

"And his name is…?"

"I don't know his name. Like I've already told you a hundred–"

There was a loud  _thunk_ and the man let out an agonized scream.

"You know the rules. Just answer the questions. Where can we find this nameless old man?"

I readied an arrow.

"Like I said, I don't know! I've seen him down in the Ratway. Maybe he lives down there, but I don't know for sure."

"That will be all for now. I must say I continue to be disappointed in your lack of cooperation. I hope next time you will do better."

"What else do you want from me? I've already told you everything. Listen, if you let me go I can take you Riften, show you where–"

Another blow. Another scream.

"Silence, prisoner!"

The instant the Thalmor stood up from his chair my arrow buried itself deep in his back and he crumpled onto the desk. My second struck through the eye of the guard when she hurried out of the cell. Getting to my feet, I hurried over to the desk. Most of the notes were covered in blood from the dead mer, but there was another journal labeled "Esbern." I flipped it open.

Most of it discussed his role as a lorekeeper for the Blades, but one passage in particular caught my eye.

_As we are still in the dark as to the cause and meaning of the return of the dragons, I have made capturing Esbern out top priority, as he is known to be one of the experts in the dragonlore of the Blades. Regrettably, we have yet to match their expertise on the subject of dragons, which was derived from their Akaviri origins and is still far superior to our own (which remains largely theoretical._

So that Esbern they were looking for seemed to have the information they wanted on the dragons, which I also wanted. And he was a Blade as well. Interesting.

Going into the cell, I knelt down before the imprisoned man. His face, arms, and bare chest were covered with purple bruises.

"I told you, I don't know anything else about it," he groaned.

"I'm not here to torture you."

He squinted up at me. "What? Who… What do you want then?"

"There's no time to explain," I said, hastily picking the locks binding his wrists to the wall above his head. "Let's get out of here."

He fell forward and glanced at his freed hands. Pointing, he said, "This way, I've seen the guards use it to get rid of bodies. It must lead somewhere."

"Hold on. You might know something important."

"I damn well hope so," he growled. "If it helps you twist them up, I'm glad to help. They're after some old guy named Esbern. Something to do with dragons, I gathered it from hearing to them talk when they thought I was out. I've seen a guy in Riften who they seem to think is him. Not much to go on – I don't even know where he lives, or his name, but they seemed pretty excited about it."

"Good enough. Let's go."

Before I could take more than two steps, I heard a voice ring out, "Listen up, spy! You're trapped in here, and we have your accomplice."

I looked up to see two Thalmor guards looking down at me from above. I drew my bow.

That was when I noticed that one of them had Malborn.

"Surrender immediately or you both die."

With a  _thunk,_ my arrow slammed into the forehead of the guard holding Malborn.

" _Run!_ " I shouted at him.

He did, the second guard on his heels, and I hurried up the stairs to intercept them. The Bosmer ducked around me and I slammed my bow into the guard's face. When he crumpled, gasping, I shot him through the mouth.

As I undid the knots on the ropes binding Malborn's hands, he grumbled, "Now the Thalmor will be hunting me for the rest of my life. I hope it was worth it."

"I'm sorry about this, but I got what I came for. Let's go."


	11. Juliana

After we escaped through the caves beneath the Embassy, the three of us split up, Etienne and Malborn hurrying off to gods-knew where. I made my way back home on foot. If the Thalmor were looking for me, and I was reasonably sure that they were, I had to lay low for a while.

The sun was setting over the mountains when I arrived in Whiterun, turning the sky above brilliant shades of pink and orange. As I passed through the gates, the guards acknowledged me with a, "My Thane."

I grimaced. Divines, I was never going to get used to them saying that, was I?

I pulled open Breezehome's door and stepped inside the house. The instant I passed over the threshold I froze.

Lydia turned at the sound of the door opening and said to me in a harried voice, "Mara, thank the Divines you're back. This woman just…  _appeared._ I wasn't sure what to do with her. She claims she's your–"

I was barely even listening to her. My attention was focused almost solely on the woman standing behind her. Unlike the last time I'd seen her, Ma didn't have that distant, unfocused, almost dazed look about her. She seemed tired. Weary. Like she had in those moments of clarity. When she caught sight of me, tears appeared in her gray eyes.

"Mara," she breathed.

Lydia stepped aside as I hurried forward and hugged Ma tightly. I felt myself shaking violently, barely holding back sobs. I leaned my forehead against her shoulder.

_"I'm sorry I left you there again"_ I gasped.  _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_

"Shh, darling. I'm all right, I promise you. But what of the Madgod? How did you–?"

I lifted my head and looked at her. "You're free now. For good. We both are, I think."

She breathed a sigh of relief, brushing a strand of hair away from my face with a soft smile. "Oh, my big girl. I'm so proud of you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

My smile trembled. Taking a deep breath, I looked back over my shoulder and said, "Lydia, this is my mother, Juliana."

The Housecarl made a short bow. "It is an honor to meet the mother of my Thane."

Ma frowned a little at that. "Thane?"

"It's… a long story."

"I have time."

Lydia hastily excused herself. Once she was gone, Ma and I turned the chairs by the fire toward each other so that we could talk.

"Now, start at the beginning. Where did you go after…?" She trailed off and looked down at the floor as if ashamed. She didn't need to finish the thought. I already knew what she meant.

"I ran away to Balmora. I… I did things I'm not proud of, Ma."

"What happened?" When I hesitated she reached forward and touched my knee. "Just tell me, darling."

"I joined the Guild. The Thieves' Guild," I amended. "They're the ones who picked me up off the street."

"Oh, Mara…"

"Don't. Please." She backed off and I continued with my story, skimming over some of the more unsavory details. "I stayed with them for eight years. That was when I really realized how…  _wrong_  it all was. I went to Mournhold and found work there, honest work, until I heard that you were gone. That's when Sheogorath kidnapped you, I think. I left Morrowind for Cyrodiil. When I arrived in the Imperial City, things… happened. I ended up in prison and met the Emperor."

"Emperor Uriel Septim the Seventh?" She asked, surprised.

I nodded. "He and the princes were murdered, but before he died he told me to find his last hidden son."

"This family always seems to get caught up in the business of the Septims," Ma said, shaking her head with a resigned sigh.

"... What do you mean?"

"My family. The Carvains."

My heart stuttered. The Carvains. The noble family in Bruma. Her family, she'd said. My family.  _My_ –

"You were a Carvain?" I managed to choke out. My voice shook.

She seemed surprised by my response. "Yes. Before I went to Skyrim to become a healer, I was engaged to be married to Prince Ebel Septim."

I couldn't breathe. My head was spinning violently. Suddenly I remembered what Narina had once said about having a sister before her engaged to one of the princes. That was  _Ma._  My stomach clenched at the memory of how I was going to stand aside and let the Countess marry the man I loved because I thought I was no one, when my own mother...

A broken sob tore itself free of my throat and I buried my face in my hands.

" _Why didn't you tell me?"_ I cried.

"I didn't tell you because I wanted to keep you safe from that life and the people in it. That wasn't the life I wanted for you."

I hadn't even realized that I'd stood up. My legs shook and the room whirled around me. Tears blurred my vision. I could only manage ragged gasps as I fought to breathe. Anger and agony pulsed through my veins in equal measures. I kicked my chair over with a twisted, anguished scream. Ma jumped to her feet.

"Mara! What's wrong?"

"I could have fought for him! I  _should_ have fought for him!"

"Who?"

"Martin Septim!" I shouted at her as tears ran in rivers down my face. "He  _loved_  me! He loved me and he asked me to marry him, but I told him no because I thought… I thought I wasn't good enough… If I'd known who you were, I might have stood a chance! But now he's dead! He's dead and I can never get him back!"

Ma's eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly as her brow knotted in a look of remorse. My shaking hands clenched into fists at my sides.

"I'm so sorry, darling," she whispered. "I never meant to hurt you. I never,  _ever_ wanted that."

Still breathing hard, I just stood there, watching as her mouth pressed into a thin, trembling line. Then I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling tears still seep from beneath my eyelids. I sunk to the floor, head bowed as I cried.

I could have said yes. I could have fought Jauffre, Ocato, the Elder Council… anyone who might have told me no. I broke his heart, my heart, for nothing. And there was nothing I could do.

The floorboards creaked slightly as she knelt down and wrapped her arms around me, holding me close. I sobbed into her shoulder.

* * *

 

_"Don't do this!" I shouted, my voice hoarse._

_I watched her standing over the kneeling figures. My heart pounded as my eyes flickered between each of them. Da, Ma, Baurus, Lucia, Lydia, Martin. All of them were bound and gagged. All of them were covered in blood and horrible burns._

_"If you were stronger, you could stop me," she laughed._

_I tried to move, but I felt frozen._

_"Pity," she said with a sigh. Her gray eyes flashed crimson and gold for an instant. "Now, which of your darlings should go first?"_

_She paced back and forth along the line, brushing her hand over each of their heads. Lucia shuddered. I wanted to cry out, but my words caught in my throat. My chest heaved with my silent sobs._

_When she stopped behind Martin, my breath hitched. He didn't flinch as she stroked his chestnut hair. A trickle of blood ran down his face from a gash on his forehead. His blue eyes were focused only on me._

_"You loved him so very much, didn't you? Your precious prince. It wasn't enough to save him in the end though, was it? You failed him just like you've failed everyone."_

_Angry tears stung in my eyes._

_"Stop," I gasped._

_"Make me. Make me, Mara Fides. Prove that you're the Hero."_

_She lifted her arms, fire burning in her hands. Before she could touch them I was there, running her through with my sword. Her eyes widened in surprise and she crumpled to the floor at my feet._

_It was only then that I realized that she was the one in the armor of a Kvatch guard, hands clutching her bow. Martin lay beside her, their hands not quite touching. The bodies of all the other people I loved lay all around me, broken. The world was burning. I looked down at my hands. They were filled with fire._

I woke, sitting up with a sharp gasp. My heart pounded frantically. As my panic slowly ebbed, my fingers unclenched from around the covers. It was a dream. Just a dream. Nothing more. Shuddering, I lay back down and closed my eyes again. The idea that I could become…  _that_  was too horrible to even contemplate.

I lost track of time. The next thing I knew someone was stroking my hair. I stirred and blinked up at the figure hovering over me.

"…  _Ma?_ What's wrong?" I asked, frowning.

She sat down beside me on the bed. "Don't you know what day it is?"

"It's the twenty-seventh, I think. Why?"

Ma looked down at me in surprise and said softly, "I wasn't about to forget my daughter's birthday."

I blinked and sat up slowly. The twenty-seventh of Morning Star. It was, in fact, my birthday. My heart twisted when I realized that that was the first time someone had really acknowledged it since I turned twelve. I stared at her, feeling shocked.

"Happy birthday, darling," Ma said, kissing my cheek.

She rose from the bed and left the room. I stared numbly at the wall. Tears prickled in my eyes and I pulled my knees up against my chest. It was strange, odd, to feel loved again for the first time in so long.

Once I'd calmed down a little I climbed out of bed, pulled on my pants and cotton shirt, and headed downstairs. Ma was by the fire, cooking something. Catching sight of me, she nodded to the table where Lydia and Lucia were already seated. Suddenly curious, I sat down as well. In the two weeks since she'd come back, I was slowly beginning to get used to Ma being around again. It was a strange feeling to say the least, having her there again after her being gone for so long.

Ma came over a minute or so later with several plates. She set one down in front of me and kissed the top of my head.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get it exactly the way I used to make it," she said to me. "It's difficult to get the same ingredients here. I hope this substitute is all right."

I looked down at the scramble on the plate she'd set before me. Egg, greens, and brilliant red specks of what I assumed were fire salts. I took a bite and instantly closed my eyes. It wasn't the same, no, not without kwama eggs, but  _still_ …

"Ma, this is the first proper food I've had in five years."

She laughed softly and set plates down in front of Lucia and Lydia before sitting down herself.

I hesitated. "Please tell me you went easy on theirs."

"Don't worry, darling. I'm not trying to kill your friends."

Lydia looked affronted. "I'm sure I could handle it."

"No, you couldn't," Ma and I both said in unison. I laughed and went back to eating the scramble, relieved to finally have something that wasn't so bland.

"So many people here complain about "milk-drinkers," but I'm sure this would kill most of them," I commented.

"You  _were_  born here, Mara. In the Rift. We lived in the Shor's Stone before your father was transferred to Vvardenfell. Do you remember that?"

I shrugged a little. "Not really."

She let out a soft  _hmm_  and shook her head. "You never liked it here, even as a child. It was too cold for you. You were happier in Morrowind, always getting into trouble."

Lydia laughed and I felt my face heat up.

_"Ma,"_ I hissed.

She shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Lucia was still giggling to herself. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Typical. Absolutely typical.

"Before I forget," Ma said, getting up and walking over to one of the cabinets, "we got something for you."

"You didn't have to…"

"Don't be silly, darling. Of course we did." She pulled out a long package and set it on the table in front of me. Frowning, I unwrapped it. Once I saw what it was I froze, my heart beating fast.

It was a bow, black and adorned with subtle engravings and flowing silver designs. I reached out carefully, hesitant to even touch it. Not when I knew exactly what that bow was made from.

"This… This is  _ebony,_ " I breathed. Ma nodded, smiling. I gently picked the weapon up, feeling how smooth it was to the touch and surprised at how light it was even with its base material. Ebony was sturdy and normally extremely heavy, but… "How did you even  _get_  this?"

"I had to pull some strings," Lydia said, "but we got it."

I stared at them, feeling faint at the thought of the price. "How much…?"

Ma quickly cut me off. "It doesn't matter. It's worth it if it makes you happy."

I looked back down at the bow in my hands. It did. Oh gods, it did. I never imagined I'd have any bow as nice as that one. Getting to my feet, I ran back upstairs to grab my quiver and tug on my boots before hurrying outside. Standing before the target, I drew back an arrow. I could  _feel_  the smoothness of the draw and the sheer power in the bow. When I released, the arrow buried itself deep within the target. I grinned widely.

"Are you happy with it?" Ma asked, coming up to stand behind me.

"Oh yes."


	12. Hidden

"Did you learn anything useful?" Delphine asked me.

I'd returned to Riverwood once I thought it was safe and Ma was settled in in Whiterun well enough. Lydia would keep her safe, of that I was sure. Now Delphine and I were holed up in her secret room beneath the inn.

"The Thalmor don't know anything about the dragons," I told her, shaking my head. "It's not them."

"Really? That seems hard to believe. You're sure about that?"

I crossed my arms. "Why'd you send me if you weren't going to believe me?"

"You're right, you're right. I just… I was  _sure_ it must have been them." She sighed and leaned against the table, staring down at the map she'd put together of the burial sites. "If not the Thalmor, who? Or what?"

"I don't know, but the Thalmor are looking for someone named Esbern."

Her head shot up and her ice-blue eyes went wide at that. "Esbern? He's alive? I thought the Thalmor must have got him years ago. That crazy old man… Figures the Thalmor would be on his trail, though, if they were trying to find out what's going on with the dragons."

"Why him?" I asked.

"Esbern was one of the Blades archivists, back before the Thalmor smashed us during the Great War. He knew everything about the ancient dragonlore of the Blades. Obsessed with it, really. Nnobody paid much attention back then. I guess he wasn't as crazy as we all thought."

"From what information I could get in the Embassy, the Thalmor seem to think the Blades are the ones who know about the dragons," I told her.

"Ironic, right?" Delphine shook her head. "The old enemies assume that every calamity must be a plot by the other side. Even so, we've got to find Esbern before they do. He'll know how to stop the dragons if anybody does."

"They seem to think he's hiding out in Riften."

"Riften, eh? Probably down in the Ratway, then. It's where I'd go. You'd better get over there. Talk to Brynjolf. He's… well-connected. A good starting point, at least."

"Got it," I said and started to walk back toward the stairs leading up to the inn.

"Oh, and when you find Esbern," she called after me, "if you think  _I'm_ paranoid, you may have some trouble getting him to trust you."

I paused and looked back at her over my shoulder. "What would you suggest I do, then?"

"Just ask him where he was on the thirtieth of Frostfall. He'll know what it means."

Wonderful.

* * *

 

The sky was overcast when I arrived at the gates to Riften, casting a sickly gray tint on the city. The water of Lake Honrich was glassy and black as midnight. Dead grass crunched underfoot as I made my way toward the heavy stone wall surrounding the city itself. At the gate, a guard dressed in the purple-edged uniform of the Rift stopped me.

"Hold there," he said. "Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor's tax."

When he held out a hand to me, palm up, I stared at him in bewilderment.

"What's the tax even  _for?_ "

"For the privilege of entering the city. What does it matter?"

My lips pursed and I put my hands on my hips. "You've got to be kidding me. Could you make it any more obvious that it's a shakedown?"

"All right, keep your voice down," he said, waving his hands and nervously glancing around. "You want everyone to hear you? I'll let you in."

Giving him a curt nod, I stepped past the guard and into the city.

My first impression of Riften was that it was cramped. The wooden buildings to either side as I entered were built on top of one another and the upper levels jutted out over the uneven cobbled street below. A small group of brown-robed priests walked down an adjoining street, keeping their heads held high. Beggars sat on ruined crates, shouting at passerby. As I walked, I carefully glanced over to see figures lurking in the dark shadows of alleyways. I didn't have to wonder who they were. I'd been one of them once. The Guild had a presence in the city, it seemed. A better one than in Balmora, at least. We'd never have been able to be out like that in broad daylight there. That was the Camonna Tong's territory.

I crossed over a wooden bridge that crossed over a waterway and led further into the city. Ahead I could see the market. There were several rings of stalls selling all different sorts of goods. The shopkeepers' shouts as they advertised their wares melded into a dense roar.

"Never done an honest day's work in your life for all that coin you're carrying, eh lass?" A voice asked from behind me.

I froze, tensing up in shock, and slowly turned around. The man who'd spoken was a Nord, redheaded and garbed in fine clothing. He leaned against the wall of a nearby building with his arms crossed, watching me closely.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He smirked. "I'm saying you've got the coin, but you didn't earn a septim of it honestly. I can tell."

"My wealth is none of your business," I told him through clenched teeth.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, lass. Wealth  _is_ my business. Maybe you'd like a taste?"

He was definitely with the Guild. I could see it on his face. They all had that same look.

"Not. Interested." I stared at him, narrowing my eyes. What Delphine had said came to me at that moment. "What I am interested in is knowing if your name would happen to be Brynjolf."

"Who's asking?"

That was a yes. "I was told to talk to you. I'm looking for an old man who's supposed to be hiding out somewhere in Riften."

"Expecting free information, eh?" He  _tsked_ loudly and shook his head. Straightening and uncrossing his arms, he stepped toward me. "Help me with business first, then we'll–"

My hand shot out and I grabbed his fingers, bending them back sharply with a loud  _snap._ He doubled over with a cry of pain. When he tried to pull his hand away I tightened my grip and bent them back further before shoving him against the wall.

"Where is he?" When the thief didn't respond, I snarled, "Tell me where he is  _now,_ fetcher, or I'll break the other set as well."

The loss of use in one hand was bad enough for a thief. To lose  _both…_ I'd seen it before in Balmora. Even if the Guild did have enough money for a healer, they were never quite right again.

"Who are you looking for, again?"

"An old man. Probably hiding out in the Ratway."

"I… I think I know your guy. He's hiding out in the Ratway Warrens. Paying us good coin for nobody to know about it."

"And how do I find the Ratway?"

"Do I have to hold your hand through everything?" I bent his fingers back a little more and he gasped, " _It's under your feet._ Just follow the smell."

"Now, when I get down there, where will he be exactly?"

* * *

 

Just like Brynjolf said, the Ratways were just under the city, accessed through a grimy old door off the canal. The stone tunnels twisted around in a labyrinth, some of them dead-ending in old metal grates. Mildew covered the walls in a thick coating and a constant dripping sound echoed through the passages. The only light came from the occasional sputtering foul smell that saturated the place was almost overpowering and actually made my eyes water. Several of the doors I passed through had crude traps set up to spring whenever anyone opened them. It was all just rather sad.

The tunnels eventually opened out into a large chamber with a domed ceiling. A cistern took up most of the space. At the far end of the room was a more brightly lit area. Wooden platforms covered in barrels and tables covered them. Even from a distance I could see that had a tavern-like set up. Before I got any nearer, I already knew what it was. At least what it was a base for. I'd spent enough time in a place like that once. At least the cornerclub had been in better condition than that sorry mess.

As I skirted around it, I saw Brynjolf standing near the bar. How he'd made it down before me I had no idea. A Redguard woman in leather armor was examining his broken fingers. He looked up just in time to see me pass by. His eyes narrowed and he nodded slightly in my direction. Suddenly I found several pairs of eyes staring at me. Not one of them made a move in my direction. I glared back at them before pushing open the door that led deeper into the Ratway.

Ahead was a series of passages walled in place by grates that wound down gods-knew how far below. To my dismay, I caught a glimpse of tall figures in dark robes and golden armor skulking about in the shadows of the tunnels. The Thalmor had made it there first.

Nocking an arrow, I crept along. Most of them were down side tunnels and I could just avoid them, but one stood in my way. He was alone. I shot, taking him out so that the path was clear.

The very bottom of the Ratway ended in a chamber with two levels. A number of doors cut into the walls. Behind one of them, I heard a woman's voice hiss, " _Knife? Yes. Book? Yes. Bucket? Yes. Inkpot? No."_

As Brynjolf had told me, there was a door on the upper level that, unlike the others, looked heavily fortified. It was intended to be defensive. I hurried over to it and pounded on the barred wooden panel.

A grate slid open and a hoarse voice from inside shouted, "Go away!"

"Esbern? Open the door. I'm a friend."

"What? No, that's not me. I'm not Esbern. I don't know what you're talking about."

Right. I glanced back over my shoulder. Still no sign of them. "The Thalmor have found you. We need to get out of here!"

"Oh, how reassuring!" He scoffed. "Most likely you're  _with_ the Thalmor and this is just a trick to get me to open the door!"

"Delphine said to "remember the thirtieth of Frostfall.""

There was a long pause. Then, in a quieter voice, he said, "Ah. Indeed, indeed. I do remember. Delphine really is alive, then? You'd better come in, then, and tell me how you found me and what you want."

The panel slide shut again.

"This'll just take a moment," I heard from the other side of the door. A moment later there were the sounds of numerous muffled clicks as locks were opened. Delphine wasn't joking, then. "This one always sticks…  _there_ we go. Only a couple more."

A few more clicks and the door swung open.

"Come in, come in!" The old man said, gesturing to me. "Make yourself at home."

I stepped inside and glanced around. The room was fairly small, split into a section for cooking and a living space stacked with books. The moment I was in, he shut the door behind me.

"That's better. Now we can talk."

I turned to face him.

"So Delphine keeps up the fight after all these years," he said with a short laugh. "I thought she'd have realized it's hopeless by now. I tried to tell her, years ago…"

I frowned. "What do you mean, "It's hopeless?""

"Haven't you figured it out yet? What more needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on? Alduin has returned, just like the prophecy said! The dragon from the dawn of time who devours the souls of the dead! No one can escape his hunger, here or in the afterlife! Alduin will devour all things and the world will end.  _Nothing_  can stop him!"

Esbern turned away, shaking his head and clasping his hands behind his back as he went on, "I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen. Fools. It's all come true… All I could do was watch our doom approach…"

"Alduin… The dragon who's raising the others?"

He turned back, pointing at me and nodding. "Yes, yes! You see, you  _know_ , but you refuse to understand!"

"So what you're telling me is," I said slowly, a chill creeping down my spine, "he's going to bring about the literal end of the world?"

"Oh, yes. It's all been foretold. The end has begun. Alduin has returned. Only a Dragonborn can stop him, but no Dragonborn has been known for centuries. It seems that the gods have grown tired of us. They've left us to our fate, as the plaything of Alduin the World-Eater."

I cleared my throat. "Esbern?  _I'm_ Dragonborn."

"What?" He gasped, his pale eyes wide. "You're… can it really be true? Dragonborn?"

"I'd give a demonstration, but it's a little cramped for that."

He grinned at me and grasped my upper arms. "Then there is hope! The gods have not abandoned us! We must… We must… We must go, quickly now. Take me to Delphine. We have much to discuss. Give me just a moment… I must gather a few things…"

He hurried off and started rifling through his stacks of books and papers. I crossed my arms, anxiously looking back at the door every few seconds. We didn't have time for this.

"I'll need this… No, no, useless trash… Where'd I put my annotated Anuad?"

"The Thalmor are almost here, you know," I told him.

"One moment. I know time is of the essence, but mustn't leave secrets for the Thalmor… There's one more thing I must bring…" He looked around, frowning. "Well, I guess that's good enough. Let's be off."

I hurried out of the room, Esbern close behind me. Leading him back the way I'd come, I prayed we didn't run into any of the Thalmor lurking down there on the way.

"What happened on the thirtieth of Frostfall?" I asked him quietly.

"It was a cold day. The end of the Frostfall is nearly winter in the Jerall Mountains."

I nodded. I remembered that all too vividly.

"We heard the news at Cloud Ruler by courier, riding hard from the Imperial City," he went on. "Thirtieth of Frostfall, one seventy one. Thirty years ago. The Great War started that day. The Thalmor ambassador delivered his ultimatum to the Emperor Titus Mede: the heads of every Blades agent within the Aldmeri Dominion. I knew, that day, that it was truly the beginning of the end."

"And what happened to the rest of the Blades?" I asked him.

"Hunted down, one by one. Cloud Ruler itself was sieged by the Thalmor and the archives destroyed. Every Blade within the fortress was killed."

It was like a blow to the chest. I remembered the words Baurus said to me once, a long time ago. " _The Blades have always been here, and always will be_." To hear that it had been destroyed…

When I glanced over, Esbern was watching me with a curious look plastered across his face.

"What?"

"What did you say your name was again?" He asked.

"I… didn't. My name is Mara."

"Mara, eh?" He tapped his chin and said thoughtfully, "There was a Blade named Mara once, long ago. She was better known as the Champion of Cyrodiil."

"Yes."

He made a quiet  _hmm_ noise _._ "She left Cloud Ruler Temple one night and vanished. We always hoped she'd come back… but she never did…"

A feeling of guilt sunk into the pit of my stomach. Everything I'd heard about what happened since I left… the usurpers… the Thalmor… could I have stopped it all if I'd stayed?

We stepped out from one of the passages. On a ledge above us were several Thalmor agents. Sparks flared to life in their gloved hands. I hastily nocked an arrow in response. Gods damn it all.

There was a Nord with them. He pointed down at me, shouting, "That's her! That's who was asking about Esbern!"

"A Blades agent! Kill her!"

I dodged the stream of lightning shot in my direction and sent my arrow into the throat of the mer who'd spoken. Fireballs roared from behind me, scattering the Thalmor as they ducked away to find cover. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Esbern shaking out his hands.

"Seems I still remember my old training after all," he said with a laugh.

"Do you know a faster way out of here?" I asked him.

"Yes, yes. We should proceed cautiously."

We hurried out of the Ratways through a series of side tunnels I hadn't seen on my way down. The Thalmor didn't seem to have found them either because they were nowhere in sight.

When we finally made it out of the sewers it was dark. I let out a sigh of relief as I breathed in the fresh air. No sewers. Never again. The market was silent as we walked through, as was the rest of the city. Perhaps a bit too quiet. I hesitated, feeling a prickling sensation on the back of my neck.

Whirling around, I saw a Khajiit woman hurrying toward me, a knife raised to strike.

"And now you pay for meddling in the Thalmor's affairs," she hissed.

In one fluid motion I drew an arrow and fired, catching her in the chest. She staggered back, toppling over the railing overlooking the waterway below. A moment later I heard a  _splash._

"Let's hope that the last of them," I murmured, lowering my bow.


	13. Blade

Delphine was standing near the counter, talking to the bartender, when Esbern and I entered the Sleeping Giant Inn.

"Delphine!" He called out. She turned around, eyes wide, and he laughed as if in disbelief. "I… It's good to see you. It's been a long time."

She walked over and clasped his arm. "It's good to see you, too, Esbern. It's been too long, old friend. Too long." The Blade cleared her throat. "Well, then. You made it, safe and sound. Good. Come on, I have a place we can talk."

As she led the two of us back to her secret room, she called back, "Orgnar, hold down the bar for a minute, will you?"

"Yeah, sure." The bartender watched us pass with a look between confusion and interest.

Once we were down in the hidden room and out of earshot, Delphine began, "Now then. I assume you know about–"

"Oh, yes!" Esbern said, nodding. "Dragonborn! Indeed, yes. This changes everything, of course. There's no time to lose. We must locate… Let me show you. I know I had it here, somewhere…"

While we watched he rummaged around in his pack, muttering to himself. Delphine sighed.

"Esbern, what…"

"Give me… just a moment… Ah! Here it is." He pulled out a book and set it on the table. Then he beckoned to us. "Come, let me show you."

Flipping open the book, he pointed to a map. "You see, right here. "Sky Haven Temple," constructed around one of the main Akaviri military camps in the Reach during their conquest of Skyrim."

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Delphine asked me. I shrugged.

Esbern hushed her. "This is where they built Alduin's Wall, to set down in stone all their accumulated dragonlore. A hedge against the forgetfulness of centuries. A wise and foresighted policy, in the event. Despite the far-reaching fame of Alduin's Wall at the time – one of the wonders of the ancient world – its location was lost."

"Esbern. What are you getting at?"

"You mean… You don't mean to say you haven't heard of Alduin's Wall? Either of you?" He looked between us with obvious disbelief.

"Let's pretend we haven't. What's Alduin's Wall and what does it have to do with stopping the dragons?"

"Alduin's wall was where the ancient Blades recorded all they knew of Alduin and his return. Part history, part prophecy. Its location has been lost for centuries, but I've found it again. Not lost, you see, just forgotten. The Blades archives held so many secrets… I was only able to save a few scraps…"

"So you think that Alduin's Wall will tell us how to defeat Alduin?" Delphine asked.

"Well, yes, but… there's no guarantee, of course."

"That's good enough for me," I told them.

Delphine nodded. "Sky Haven Temple it is, then. I knew you'd have something for us, Esbern." Turning to me, she said, "I know the area of the Reach that Esbern's talking about. Near what's now known as Karthspire, in the Karth River Canyon."

"All right. Let's go, then. Are you ready?"

"Always. Let's go see if we can find this Sky Haven Temple."

As we made our way out, Delphine stopped by the bar and said to the man behind it, "Orgnar, this is it. The inn is yours. I'm probably never coming back here."

"Well, now. That's something to think about."

"Take care of yourself, Orgnar. Goodbye."

"Yeah… sure. You, too, Delphine. You be safe."

They shook hands and Delphine followed Esbern and me outside.

* * *

 

It was dark when we arrived at Karthspire. Stars winked in the black sky over our heads. The silence was abruptly broken by the loud roar of a dragon from somewhere nearby. I paused and drew my bow. Rounding a bend in the trail, I finally found the source.

A large camp was built on wooden platforms over the river. I saw people running about on them, casting fire at the dragon that hovered above. With a roar, it spewed fire down on them. More flames were cast between them, dancing in brilliant amber flashes in the darkness.

"Forsworn," Delphine said. When she drew her sword and hurried forward, I grabbed her arm.

"That's not what we're here for," I hissed. "Let them deal with it."

Grudgingly she nodded and turned away, leading us up into a cave set into the mountainside.

Deep inside the tunnels, past what looked like an extension of the camp outside, we came across some old ruins. Pillars lined the cavern, and I saw what looked like another passage above, but there was no way to reach it. Only a raised stone bridge that would have led to a platform reached by a set of stairs.

"This looks promising," Delphine said, climbing them. She lit a torch and looked around.

"Yes. Definitely early Akaviri stonework here," Esbern mused.

"We've got to get this bridge down." She knelt beside three waist-height pillars at the top of the platform. "These must have something to do with it."

Esbern came up beside her. "Yes. These are Akaviri symbols." He pointed to each in turn. "Let's see… You have the symbol for "King"… and "Warrior"… and of course the symbol for "Dragonborn." That's the one that appears to have a sort of arrow shape pointing downward at the bottom."

"If the Akaviri were all about the Dragonborn…" I stepped forward and both Blades moved aside as I turned the pillars so that the symbol for Dragonborn faced us on each. As I did, there was loud groan and the bridge swung down.

Delphine looked over at the bridge and the tunnel beyond. "It worked. Let's see what else those old Blades left in our way."

I followed them up the tunnel and around the corner. Just beyond I saw another room. Before either of us could take a step, Esbern slammed to a halt and shouted, "Wait!"

"Why are you stopping?"

He pointed at the ground. "We should be careful here. See these symbols on the floor?"

Delphine crouched to examine them. "Hmm. Esbern's right. Look like pressure plates."

I looked out across the room. On the other side I saw a chain set into the wall. A way to turn off the trap.

"Right. I'll go."

"Don't be stupid," Delphine snapped. "Without you–"

"It's all for nothing. Yeah, I got it. But I have experience with this kind of thing, so just let me do it."

I looked down at the tiles, recognizing the Dragonborn symbol again. I stepped out onto one of them. Nothing happened. I stepped onto another nearby. Again, nothing.

"Be careful," Esbern urged.

I picked my way through, stepping on only tiles marked with that symbol. Once I reached the other side I pulled the chain. There was a series of clicking noises from beneath the floor.

"Looks safe now. Let's move," Delphine called.

As we hurried forward, over yet another bridge, I heard Esbern say, "I think we must be close to the entrance."

A final tunnel led out into a chamber whose ceiling was open to the sky. The natural walls were carved further down so that they were mostly smooth. At the far end, a giant sculpture of a man's face was set into the wall. Between it and us were several concentric rings of stone.

"Wonderful," Esbern breathed. "Remarkably well preserved, too. Look here! You see how the ancient Blades revered Reman Cyrodiil. This whole place appears to be a shrine to Reman. He ended the Akaviri invasion under mysterious circumstances, you recall. After the so-called "battle" of Pale Pass, the Akaviri went into his service. This was the foundation stone of the Second Empire."

Noticing the stone circles at last, he pointed at them and said, "Ah… here's the "blood seal." Another of the lost Akaviri arts. No doubt triggered by, well, blood. Your blood, Mara."

"What?"

"Try dripping blood onto the carving on the floor," Delphine suggested.

Grimacing, I looked at the carving. It didn't seem I had much choice at the moment. Not if we wanted to get into the Temple.

Kneeling down, I pulled off my glove and drew my knife. I nicked one of my fingers and let the blood that welled up drip onto the stones.

The instant it made contact the stones flared with light. I stepped back as they turned. There was a loud grinding sound, and the carved head of Reman Cyrodiil lifted out of sight, revealing a passage beyond.

"You did it! There's the entrance!" Delphine said, her face alight with wonder. I healed up the cut and took the torch she handed to me. "After you, Dragonborn. You should have the honor of being the first to set foot in Sky Haven Temple."

"There's no telling what we might find inside."

I stepped in and pushed open the stone door just beyond. Inside was a set of stairs. Carved reliefs were set into the walls. Esbern stopped to examine several of them as Delphine lit the braziers lining the hall with her torch.

"Fascinating! Original Akaviri bas-reliefs, almost entirely intact! Amazing… You can see how the Akaviri craftsmen were beginning to embrace the more flowing Nordic style…"

"We're here for Alduin's Wall, right, Esbern?" Delphine asked him sharply as she walked past.

"Yes, of course. We'll have more time to look around later, I suppose. Let's see what's up ahead."

The hall ended in a massive chamber. There were several holes in the natural stone ceiling above, revealing glimpses of the night sky. Below, at the center of the room was a long stone table. Several doorways led off to gods-knew where. Finally I saw by the flickering torchlight that one of the walls was elaborately carved with a massive relief design.

"Shor's bones, here it is! Alduin's wall!" Esbern gasped, hurrying toward it. "So well preserved… I've  _never_ seen a finer example of early second era Akaviri sculptural relief…"

"Esbern! We need information, not a lecture on art history!"

"Yes, yes. Let's see what we have."

He lit a brazier nearby and gazed up at the wall.

"Look, here is Alduin! This panel goes back to the beginning of time, when Alduin and the Dragon Cult ruled over Skyrim. Here the humans rebel against their dragon overlords – the legendary Dragon War." The old Blade led me through all the events depicted in the carving. "Alduin's defeat is the centerpiece of the Wall. You see, here he is falling from the sky. The Nord Tongues – masters of the Voice – are arrayed against him."

"So, does it show how they defeated him?" Delphine asked. "Isn't that why we're here?"

"Patience, my dear. The Akaviri were not a straightforward people. Everything is couched in allegory and mythic symbolism. This here, coming from the mouths of the Nord heroes – this is the Akaviri symbol for "Shout," but… there's no way to know what Shout is meant."

"You mean they used a Shout to defeat Alduin? You're sure?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Presumably something rather specific to dragons, or even Alduin himself. Remember, this is where they recorded all they knew of Alduin and his return."

"So we're looking for a Shout, then. Damn it," she growled. To me, she asked, "Have you ever heard of such a thing? A Shout that can knock a dragon out of the sky?"

I shook my head. "No, but the Greybeards might have."

"You're probably right. I was hoping to avoid having to involve them in this, but it seems we have no choice."

"What do you have against them?"

"If they had their way, you'd do nothing but sit up on their mountain with them and talk to the sky, or whatever it is they do. The Greybeards are so afraid of power that they won't use it. Think about it. Have they tried to stop the civil war, or done anything about Alduin? No. And they're afraid of you, of your power. Trust me, there's no need to be afraid. Think of Tiber Septim. Do you think he'd have founded the third Empire if he'd listened to the Greybeards?"

I remembered the vision of myself, of what she did with her power, and the dreams I'd had recently.

Still I murmured, "Don't worry. I'm not going to lock myself away." Not again. Not after what happened last time.

"Good. The Greybeards can teach you a lot, but don't let them turn you away from your destiny. You're Dragonborn, and you're the only one who can stop Alduin. Don't forget it."

"I'll see what Arngeir knows about this shout, then."

"Right. Good thing they've already let you into their little cult. Not likely they'd help Esbern or me if we came calling. We'll look around Sky Haven Temple and see what else the old Blades might have left for us. It's a better hideout than I could have hoped for."

"Look, here. In the third panel," Esbern cut in. "The prophecy that brought the Akaviri to Tamriel in the first place, in search of the Dragonborn. Here are the Akaviri – the Blades – you see their distinctive longswords. Now they kneel, their ancient mission fulfilled, as the Last Dragonborn contends with Alduin at the end of time. Are you paying attention, Delphine? You might learn something of our own history."

Delphine rolled her eyes.

"I know the prophecy by heart. Once all Blades knew it.  _When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world; when the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped; when the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles; when the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne and the White Tower falls; when the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding; the World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn._ "

I stepped up to the wall, looking at the panel Esbern illuminated with his torch. One symbol stood out, a Daedric one. I stared up at it. That piece of the prophecy was clear to me at least, just looking at that image. I remembered the first Gate I closed, the one at Kvatch. I remembered the blood, the heat, the smoky air. It was a nightmare in physical form, just like the Daedra that ruled it.

"Ah yes," Esbern began as he noticed me staring up at it. "That is the symbol for the Oblivion Crisis."

"It's the daedric letter 'o'. It was on the cover of the…"

I faltered. I remembered that infernal book. What it did. Martin had been so strong to look at it and not lose himself during that time. He had been stronger than I ever was in so many ways.

"The cover of  _what?_ "

I turned to Delphine. "The Mysterium Xarxes."

"I suppose it could have been," Esbern mused. "It was a prominent symbol, certainly, and is often associated with Mehrunes Dagon during the period. As for exactly what was inside that book… No one was able to properly document it. Martin Septim was the only one to read it, and from what was written, he–"

"There were diagrams and instructions for the ritual to get into Mankar Camoran's Paradise."

"Fascinating…" He murmured.

" _Esbern!_ "

"What?"

Delphine pointed an accusing finger at me. "How do you know all this?"

"I had to walk through his little study space every time I tried to get through the Great Hall." I leaned on my fists against the table. "It was nigh impossible to get through there for ages. He practically took the place over."

"Who did?"

I remembered the stacks and stacks of books, Jauffre's annoyance that the Great Hall was all but unusable. The sound of page after page being turned, searching for an answer.

"Martin." I smiled softly at the bittersweet memory.

Delphine looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Martin Septim? You're kidding, right?"

"Who do you think  _got_ that damned book for him?"

"So you  _are_  Mara Fides," Esbern said. He looked at me curiously, almost as if he was studying me. "I'll admit I have had my suspicions since I first met you. Not many outside the Blades ever knew that the Champion was a member of our order. Besides, you do so look like your statue."

I should have known when he asked about my name. Damn it.

"But that's impossible." Delphine snapped, crossing her arms. A look of suspicion flooded her face. "That happened two hundred years ago. You've got to be, what, thirty?"

"I  _am_ thirty," I snapped. Never mind that the daedric curse made me stop aging at age twenty-eight. "And yes, it is possible."

"Prove it."

"Delphine…"

"On the tenth of Frostfall, year four thirty-three of the third era, on the steps of Cloud Ruler Temple, Grandmaster Jauffre made me swear an oath," I said, cutting Esbern off. "Undying loyalty to those of the Dragon Blood, and that I would protect and serve them to my final breath. The oath all Blades took. The same oath  _you_ took, I'm sure."

She stared at me. "Gods above. How have you survived this long?"

"It's a long story, and not one I particularly want to share."

Delphine looked like she was going to press me further, but Esbern quickly beat her to it.

"What was he like?" He asked. "Martin Septim, I mean."

"He was…" My words caught in my throat and I took a deep breath. "… He was a good man. Stubborn, yes. Stubborn, kind, reserved, and strong. Understanding above all else. But he was never arrogant. Divines knew he could have been, but he never was."

"And I must ask… You may or may not know of this, but… You know how such rumors are known to come about in such situations. Nevertheless such a rumor did arise…"

"What rumor?"

He hesitated. "Were you and Emperor Martin ever… intimate?"

" _Esbern! Really?_ " Delphine shouted at him.

I felt cold as I stared down at my hands. Tears welled up in my eyes and a hollow ache settled into my chest.

"Yes," I whispered, "we were."

Dead silence. I felt their eyes on me, but I couldn't look up.

"Was it merely physical, or…"

" _I loved him_ ," I snapped, glaring at them both. They both stepped back slightly, as if they were afraid of me. "He was the only person I ever loved, and he…"

My hands clenched into fists. All I could see were his last moments. The way he'd kissed me, told me he loved me. The look on his face before he cast down the Amulet of Kings.

"… He was gone too soon."

Neither of them said another word. They seemed too stunned to even move. Straightening, I faced them and said in a flat voice, "I'm going to go see if Arngeir knows anything about this shout. Enjoy your new fortress."

Their eyes still upon me, I turned and left Sky Haven Temple, bitter tears running down my face.


	14. Paarthurnax

The late afternoon sunlight was blinding on the snow as I walked up the steps to High Hrothgar's monastery. When I stepped inside and into the relative darkness, I blinked several times as I tried to get my eyes to adjust enough to see. When I finally could, I noticed Arngeir heading toward me.

When I held the horn out to him, he said, "You've retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller after all."

"I apologize for taking so long returning this. There were… unexpected delays."

"Understood. Such things inevitably happen. You have now passed all the trials. It is time for us to recognize you formally as Dragonborn."

The rest of the Greybeards walked out from further in the monastery to gather around me in a circle. I watched them all get into position, feeling a little wary.

"You have completed your training, Dragonborn. We would Speak to you," Arngeir told me. "Prepare yourself. Few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards, but you are ready."

I took a deep breath and my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I had no idea what would happen next.

As one, the Greybeards Spoke.  _"Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau."_

Their voices whirled around me. It was like trying to stand in a strong wind as the power tugged at me. I gritted my teeth and held my ground.

_"Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu. Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok."_

Then it was over and Arngeir give me a slight bow.

"Dovahkiin," he said. "You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards and passed through unscathed. High Hrothgar is open to you."

As the other Greybeards left, heading back to wherever they'd come from, I hurried after Arngeir.

"There's something I need to ask of you."

He turned back to face me with mild curiosity and clasped his hands before him. "What is it, Dragonborn?"

"I need to learn the Shout that was used to defeat Alduin," I said.

"Where did you learn of that?" He asked, frowning. "Who have you been talking to?"

"It was recorded on Alduin's wall."

The Greybeard's expression instantly grew dark. "The Blades. Of course. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds."

My jaw clenched. I  _was_ a Blade, long ago.

"They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom," he went on, his tone harsh with disapproval. "Have you learned  _nothing_ from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?"

"They're helping me. I'm not their puppet," I snapped.

He hastily backtracked. "No, no, of course not. Forgive me, Dragonborn. I have been intemperate with you. But heed my warning – the Blades may say they serve the Dragonborn, but they do not. They never have."

Suddenly I was watching Baurus staying behind to give Martin a better chance to get to the Dragonfires. The daedra ran him through, but he still kept fighting. I angrily shoved the thought aside.

"So, can you teach me this Shout?"

"No." My frustrated reply was cut off as he said, "I cannot teach it to you because I do not know it. It is called "Dragonrend," but its Words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice."

"If the Shout's lost, how am I supposed to defeat Alduin?"

"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question, if he so chooses," he said.

I frowned, confused. "Why haven't I met him yet?"

"He lives in seclusion on the very peak of the mountain," Arngeir explained. "He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege."

"How do I get to the top of the mountain, then?"

"Only those whose Voice is strong can find the path. Come. I will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax."

I followed Arngeir outside and across the courtyard behind the monastery. On the far side, a set of stairs led to a stone gateway. Beyond it I saw mist caught in a strong wind. That did not bode well.

"The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate. I will show you how to open the way," Arngeir said. "The words to the Shout are  _lok vah koor._  It is known as "Clear Skies.""

" _Lok vah koor_ ," I repeated slowly, tasting the words and feeling the power of them on my tongue.

"It will blow away the mist, but only for a time. The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit. This is your final gift from us, Dragonborn. Use it well."

Nodding, I stepped up to the gate and Shouted the words. Instantly the mist vanished, leaving part of the trail clear. I hurried through. Looking back, I saw the other Greybeards gathered with Arngeir to watch me. The mist slowly crept back in, and they vanished from my sight.

* * *

 

For hours I climbed that mountain, Shouting until I was reasonably certain my voice would fail at any moment. No plants grew up there. It was too cold. Who lived in that kind of place anyway?

The sun was rising as I reached the summit, turning the sky a rosy color. It seemed desolate. Abandoned. Someone was actually up there?

There was a loud roar. Looking up, I saw a dragon swooping overhead, illuminated brilliantly in the dawn sunlight. I drew my sword and tensed, waiting. But he didn't attack. Instead he landed in front of me, sending up a spray of snow.

" _Drem Yol Lok_ ," he said to me. "Greetings,  _wunduniik_. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my  _strunmah_ … my mountain?"

Paarthurnax. The leader of the Greybeards, the person I'd gone all that way to see… was a dragon.

I looked him over cautiously. Unlike Alduin his scales were light gray. His horns were shorter, forming a kind of frill around his head. One of the horns on his chin was broken. Silver eyes stared down at me with interest.

I sheathed my sword. "I think you already know who I am."

"Yes.  _Vahzah_. You speak true, Dovahkiin. Forgive me. It has been a long time since I held  _tinvaak_ with a stranger. I gave in to the temptation to prolong our speech."

"Why live alone on the top of a mountain if you love conversation so much?" I asked.

" _Evenaar bahlok._ There are many hungers it is better to deny than to feed.  _Dreh ni nahkip._ Discipline against the lesser aids in  _qahnaar…_ denial of the greater."

"I need to learn the–"

" _Drem._ Patience," he said, cutting me off. "There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the  _dov_. By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"

He reared back, towering over me, his pale wings spread wide. Opening his maw, he Shouted a stream of fire down upon me. I gasped. But then I caught it, the word he'd Spoken. As I did, the fire passed over me.

"A gift, Dovahkiin," he said. " _Yol._ Understand Fire as the _dov_  do. It is change given form. Power at its most primal. That is the true meaning of " _yol." Suleyk._ Power. You have it, as do all  _dov._ But power is inert without action and choice. Think of this as the fire builds in your  _su'um,_ in your breath.  _Su'um ahrk morah._ What will you burn? What will you spare? Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as  _dovah!_ "

Feeling the power build in my chest, I released it in a Shout.

_"Yol!_ "

Fire erupted from my mouth, licking over the dragon's face. He seemed to smile.

"Ah, yes!  _Sossedov los mul._ The Dragon Blood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind. So, you have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a  _joor…_ mortal. Even for one of the  _Dovah Sos._ Dragon Blood."

"Can you teach me the Dragonrend Shout?" I asked.

"Ah. I have expected you.  _Prodah_. You would not come all this way for  _tinvak_ with an old  _dovah._ No. You seek your weapon against Alduin."

"The Greybeards didn't want me to come at all," I told him.

"Hmm. Yes," he rumbled, nodding slowly. "They are very protective of me.  _Bahlaan fahdonne._ But I do not know the Thu'um you seek.  _Krosis._ It cannot be known to me. Your kind –  _joorre –_ mortals – created it as a weapon against the  _dov…_ the dragons. Our  _hadrimme,_ our minds cannot even… comprehend its concepts."

"How can I learn it, then?" It felt like I was getting nowhere.

" _Drem._ All in good time. First, a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"

I hesitated. "Honestly? This world might not be the best, but it's all I've got. I don't particularly want it to end."

" _Pruzah._ As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although not all. Some would say that all things must end, so that the next can come to pass. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next  _kalpa? Lein vokiin?_ Would you stop the next world from being born?"

"The next world will have to take care of itself."

" _Paaz._ A fair answer." He contemplated my words. " _Ro fus…_ maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past Time's end.  _Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis._ Those who try to hasten the end may delay it. Those who work to delay the end may bring it closer."

I didn't particularly like that thought.

"But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough.  _Krosis._ Now I will answer your question. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the  _Monahven_ – what you name Throat of the World?"

I glanced around. "I never really thought about it."

"This is the most sacred mountain in Skyrim.  _Zok revak strunmah._ The great mountain of the world. Here the ancient Tongues, the first mortal masters of the Voice, brought Alduin to battle and defeated him."

"Using the Dragonrend shout, correct?"

"Yes and no.  _Viik nuz ni kron._ Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to… defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin, but this was not enough.  _Ok mulaag unslaad._ It was the  _Kel_ – the Elder Scroll. They used it to… cast him adrift on the currents of Time."

"Are you saying the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time?" That was a staggering thought.

"Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost.  _Meyye._ I knew better.  _Tiid bo amativ._ Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge, but not when."

"And… what  _is_ an Elder Scroll, exactly?"

Paarthurnax hummed thoughtfully. "How to explain in your tongue? The  _dov_ have words for such things that  _joorre_ do not. It is an… artifact from outside time. It does not exist, but it has always existed.  _Rah wahlaan._ They are… hmm… fragments of creation."

Wonderful.

"The  _Kelle…_ Elder Scrolls, as you name them, they have often been used for prophecy. Yes, your prophecy comes from an Elder Scroll. But this is only a small part of their power.  _Zofaas suleyk._ "

"How does any of this actually help me?"

" _Tiid krent._ Time was… shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that  _Kel,_ that Elder Scroll back here… to the  _Tiid-Ahraan,_ the Time-Wound… With the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to… cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."

"Do you know where it is, then?" I asked him, crossing my arms.

" _Krosis._ No. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I."

"Maybe Arngeir will have an idea," I mused.

"Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin," the dragon said, lowering his head so it was very close to me. His silver eyes bored into me. "Your blood will show you the way."

"What will I even do with it once I find it?"

"Return it here, to the  _Tiid-Ahraan._ Then…  _Kelle vomindok._ Nothing is certain with such things… but I believe the Scroll's bond with the  _Tiid-Ahraan_ will allow you a… a seeing, a vision of the moment of its creation. Then you will feel – know – Dragonrend, in the power of its first expression. You will see them…  _wuth fadonne…_ my friends – Hakon, Gormlaith, Felldir."

"Who?"

"The first mortals that I taught the Thu'um – the first Tongues. The leaders of the rebellion against Alduin."

Right. The three figures on the Wall.

"They were mighty, in their day. Even to attempt to defeat Alduin…  _suhrot hunne._ The Nords have had many heroes since, but none greater."

* * *

 

Arngeir was meditating at the top of a tower at the edge of the courtyard when I arrived back at the monastery, kneeling on a ledge overlooking the sky. From that height, I swore I could see all of Skyrim below me.

"So," he began, not looking at me, "you spoke to Paarthurnax. The Dragon Blood burns bright within you. Did he tell you what you wanted to know? Did he teach you the Dragonrend Shout?"

"No, but he told me how to find it," I said quietly.

"So be it. If he believes it is necessary for you to learn this… we will bow to his wisdom."

"I need the Elder Scroll the ancients used on Alduin in the first place. Do you know where I can find it?"

"We have never concerned ourselves with the Scrolls," he said slowly. "The gods themselves would rightly fear to tamper with such things. As for where to find it… such blasphemies are the calling of mages, not followers of the Way. They may be able to help you find the Elder Scroll you seek."

Murmuring my thanks to the Greybeard, I slipped away back down the tower staircase.


	15. Depths

White flakes swirled around me as I passed through Winterhold, heading for the Mage's College. I couldn't even call Winterhold a city; it was small and shabby, clearly having seen better days. The College, on the other hand, appeared to be in better shape. I saw the square stone towers clearly even at a distance. The entire structure perched on top of a rather narrow pillar of rock, however. That alone made me nervous.

Connecting Winterhold to the college was a long stone bridge that I saw had several twists and bends. Standing at the very beginning, between the bridge and me, was an Altmer. She held up a hand for me to stop.

"Cross the bridge at your own peril," the womer told me. "The way is dangerous and the gate will not open. You shall not gain entry."

I glanced around. Not only was it snowing, there was also a biting wind. Yet there that mer stood. It looked like she'd been there for a while, too.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"I am here to assist those seeking the wisdom of the College. And if, in the process, my presence helps deter those who might seek to do harm, so bet it. The more important question is: why are  _you_ here?"

"I need to get in. I'm looking for information on the Elder Scrolls."

"Are you?" She cocked one angular brow. "It is true there are some here who have spent years studying the accumulated knowledge of the Scrolls. But what you seek does not come easily, and can destroy those without a strong will. It would seem that the College has what you seek. The question now is what you can offer the College. Not just anyone is allowed inside."

"Would you let the Dragonborn in?"

Both eyebrows lifted in surprise at that. "Dragonborn? It's been so long since we've had any contact with the Greybeards. Do you really have the Voice? I would be most impressed to see that."

"Fine."

I turned aside so that I didn't accidentally hit her. Then I Shouted a stream of fire into the air, just like Paarthurnax taught me.

"So the stories are true. You are Dragonborn. Normally you'd need to show some aptitude with one of the schools of magic, but you… I think there is  _much_ that we can learn from each other."

"Fantastic," I said flatly. "Can I go in now?"

"Yes. I'll lead you across the bridge. Once you're inside you'll want to speak with Mirabelle Ervine, our Master Wizard. Please, follow me."

When she beckoned, I followed her onto the bridge. She snapped her fingers and purple light flared to life in a brazier set on the bridge. The wind around us instantly died. She led me up to the College's gate, which opened at her approach. She stopped and gestured to it.

"Go on in," she said.

I did, passing through the gateway and across the courtyard beyond. At the center was a larger-than-life statue of a mage who was carved as if his cloak was caught in a strong wind. Behind it, a Breton woman in mage robes was gesturing agitatedly to an Altmer wearing what I recognized as the Thalmor uniform.

"I believe I've made myself rather clear," she told him firmly.

He sneered. "I'm simply trying to understand the reasoning behind the decision."

"You may be used to the Empire bowing to your every whim, but I'm afraid you'll find the Thalmor receive no such treatment here. You are a guest of the College, here at the pleasure of the Arch-Mage. I hope you appreciate the opportunity."

"Yes, of course. The Arch-Mage has my thanks."

"Very good. Then we're done here."

At that moment, the mer's yellow eyes caught on me. I saw them narrow and I glared right back at him. Scoffing, he turned away.

The woman focused her attention on me. "I don't believe I've seen you around here before. What do you want?"

"Are you Mirabelle Ervine? I was told to speak to you."

"I am. What do you need?"

"I'm looking for information on the Elder Scrolls."

"Ah, yes. You'll want to speak to Urag gro-Shub in the Arcanaeum. Follow me."

She led me through the main set of doors into the College proper. Turning to the right, she indicated a one of the doors and said, "It's just through here and up the stairs. I hope you find what you're looking for."

After giving her my thanks, I pulled the door open and climbed the set of stairs beyond.

At the top was a large round room. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the outer walls and several inner rings. Some others sat at tables placed here and there poring over tomes. As I glanced around, I realized with a pang just how much Martin would have loved it in there.

At the far side of the room, an orc sat behind a desk. As I approached he looked up from the book he was examining to glower at me.

"You are now in the Arcanaeum," he said, "of which I am in charge. It might as well be my own little plane of Oblivion. Disrupt my Arcanaeum, and I will have you torn apart by angry atronachs. Now, do you require assistance?"

"Yes. I'm looking for an Elder Scroll."

"And what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand girl?"

I fought the urge to laugh. That had been me far too often in the past.

"Of course I do. Do you have one here?"

He snorted. "You think that even if I did have one here, I would let you see it? It would be kept under the highest security. The greatest thief in the world wouldn't be able to lay a finger on it."

"What if the  _Dragonborn_  was asking?" I asked, crossing my arms.

His black eyes narrowed. "What about… Wait. Are you? Were you the one the Greybeards were calling?"

"It's how I got in here," I told him.

"I'll bring you everything we have on the Scrolls, but it's not much." Setting the book down, he got up, grumbling, and shuffled over to the shelves. He returned a moment later and deposited two books on the desk. "Here you go. Try not to spill anything on them."

I flipped the first one open. All it did was discuss the effects that the Elder Scrolls had on the people who read them, in both body and mind. Not much help. The second, however…

_Imagine living beneath the waves with a strong-sighted blessing of most excellent fabric. Holding the fabric over your gills, you would begin to breathe-drink its warp and weft. Though the plantmatter fibers imbue your soul, the wretched plankton would pollute the cloth until it stank to heavens of prophecy. This is one manner in which the Scrolls first came to pass, but are we the sea, or the breather, or the fabric? Or are we the breath itself?_

_Can we flow through the Scrolls as knowledge flows through, being the water, or are we the stuck morass of sea-filth that gathers on the edge?_

"This "Ruminations" book is gibberish," I said, frowning down at the words in confusion. What was any of that supposed to even  _mean?_

Urag glanced over and nodded, chuckling. "Aye, that's the work of Septimus Signus. He's the world's master of the nature of Elder Scrolls, but… well. He's been gone for a long while. Too long."

"He's dead?"

"Oh, no. I hope not. But even I haven't seen him in years, and we were close. Became obsessed with the Dwemer. Took off north saying he had found some old artifact. Haven't seen him since. He's somewhere in the ice fields, if you want to try to find him."

It didn't look like I had much choice.

* * *

 

I finally found what I was looking for north of the College. I pulled my boat up onto the ice beside another. The thick layer of frost on it told me it had been there for a while. In the side of the glacier, someone had set a wooden hatch into the ice. I pulled it open and climbed into the tunnel beyond.

The passage led out into a cavern at the glacier's heart. Below was a massive box as big as a small house. It looked Dwemer in origin. Beside it someone had set up a small campsite. I saw a man dressed in hooded robes flipping feverishly through a book and muttering to himself.

"Dig, Dwemer, in the beyond. I'll know your lost unknown and rise to your depths…"

"Hello?" I called down.

He started violently and looked up from his book as I descended to the floor of the chamber.

"You're Septimus Signus, I presume. I heard you know about the Elder Scrolls."

"Elder Scrolls. Indeed," he said, nodding. "The Empire. They absconded with them. Or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they  _thought_ they saw. I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I… I have arisen beyond its grasp."

"Are you… all right?" I asked him.

"Oh, I am well. Well to be within the will inside the walls."

He was nearly as senseless as his book.

"So, where's the Elder Scroll?"

"Here." When I looked around, frowning, he added, "Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby."

I groaned. "Can you help me get the Elder Scroll or not?"

"One block lifts the other. Septimus will give what you want, but you must bring him something in return."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. What do you want?"

"You see this masterwork of the Dwemer," he said, indicating the box. "Deep inside their greatest knowings. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the Dwemer. Lucky then they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies. Have you heard of Blackreach? "Cast upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept."" He laughed to himself.

"Where is this… Blackreach?"

"Under Deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock."

"So how  _do_ I get in?"

"Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round." He rummaged around in a bag nearby and pulled out a small orb and a cube. Handing them both to me, he went on, "The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The deepest doors of Dwemer listen for singing. It plays the attitude of notes proper for opening. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To glimpse the world inside an Elder Scroll can damage the eyes. Or the mind, as it has to Septimus. The Dwemer found a loophole, as they always do. To focus the knowledge away and inside without harm. Place the lexicon into their contraption and focus the knowings into it. When it brims with glow, bring it back and Septimus can read once more."

So the orb was some kind of key and the cube was what he wanted in return, etched with the information on the Elder Scroll. Easy enough.

"What do you want with the Elder Scroll, exactly?"

"Ooh, an observant one. How  _clever_ to ask of Septimus." He indicated the giant box again. "This Dwemer lockbox. Look upon it and wonder. Inside is the heart. The heart of a god! The heart of you. And me. But it was hidden away. Not by the dwarves, you see. They were already gone. Someone else. Unseen. Unknown. Found the heart, and with a flair for the ironical, used Dwarven trickery to lock it away. The Scroll will give the deep vision needed to open it. For not even the strongest machinations of the Dwemer can hold off the all-sight given by an Elder Scroll."

Right. Interesting.

Turning, I climbed back up toward the entrance.

* * *

 

There was a ruined camp at Alftand when I arrived. It looked like a blizzard had blown through, knocking over tents and the better part of the wooden buildings set up nearby. I saw several frozen bodies half-buried in the snow. Below, a bridge led down into the icy caverns. I followed the barely lit passages, listening to the wind howl through. In the distance I heard a faint voice.

" _Where is it? I know you were trying to keep it for yourself, J'zhar… you always try to keep it for yourself! No! There's got to be more skooma! Shut up! Shut up! Don't lie to me, J'zhar! You hid it! You always try to steal it from me!_ "

I cautiously inched along, hoping to avoid the speaker.

The rough tunnels soon changed into ones that I recognized as Dwemer in origin. I hadn't been inside a Dwemer ruin in years, not since Vvardenfell. I didn't have good memories of them, but at least I knew what to expect.

Sure enough, the deeper I went into the ruins the louder the whirs and clanks of the machinery became. I avoided the slick oil spills that covered the floor in many places and skirted around the live Dwemer automatons.

As I walked down one of the quieter tunnels with no machines in sight, I Shouted some fire over my hand. It caught on my fingers, licking over them, but they didn't burn. It felt pleasantly warm, in fact, compared to the icy ruins. Frowning, I focused on the feeling and tried to mimic it in my other hand. It instantly burst into flames. I stared at them in awe before remembering my nightmare, how my hands had been full of fire just like they were then. The flames instantly died and I clenched my fists.

I would not be that person. I wouldn't.

At the end of the halls was a tube-shaped cavern that descended deep into the earth. I glanced down over the edge. Below was a spiral of bridges leading down to the very bottom. Just a little way down from the platform I stood on was a corpse. She looked like she'd fallen from where I stood now. I grimaced.

Carefully, I climbed down some exposed Dwemer piping to where the body lay. As I got closer, I realized that she hadn't just fallen. Several crude arrows stuck out of her chest and stomach. I crouched low and drew my bow. There was someone else down there.

I cautiously inched down the bridges, searching for any other sign of life. As I rounded a bend, I froze and held my breath.

A skulking, hunched figure blocked the path ahead. Its skin was sickly pale and it had pointed ears like a mer. In one of its boney hands it held a roughly hewn bow. It turned its head and I saw that it had only sunken sockets where its eyes should have been. Shriveled nostrils twitched as it sniffed the air.

I drew back an arrow as quietly as I could. The creature's head snapped around and it bared sharp, yellow fangs at me. A moment later it fell to the ground, twitching, my arrow lodged in its neck.

I finally allowed myself to take a shaky breath. Gods, what  _was_ that thing?

* * *

 

I found more of the creatures as I descended further into the ruins, along with piles of bloody, gnawed bones that looked suspiciously human. Just the thought of it made me sick.

At the very bottom was a chamber with a set of stairs leading up to a Dwemer gate. I climbed them, cautiously looking around. The bodies of two massive Dwemer constructs lay broken nearby. One of them was still letting off some faint steam. I hurried past, not wanting to linger just in case it decided to wake.

At the top, past the gate, was a small room. Two bodies lay on the floor near the back. One was a woman wearing fancy steel armor and carrying a spike-covered shield. The other was a man in Legion armor. The blood that coated their weapons and her shield was still fairly fresh. I turned my attention away from them and focused on the mechanism in the middle of the room.

It was constructed from stone and metal, set with a device made of concentric metal rings. On one side was a small hollow the same size as the orb Septimus gave me. I placed it inside.

Sure enough the device began to whir and spin. Around me, the floor sank down into a set of stairs leading below. I followed them down and went through the door at the bottom.

There was no doubt that what I had just stepped into was what Septimus called the "Blackreach". It was an impossibly large cavern whose ceiling was so high above me that I could barely make it out. Everything was lit an eerie blue color from the massive luminescent mushrooms and the sparkling crystals that lined the walls and ground. All across the cavern, I saw ancient Dwemer buildings scattered here and there.

Septimus had said I was looking for a tower. Squinting, I thought I saw one in the distance. Whether it was the  _right_ one or not, I couldn't be sure. But I had to check.

I followed the underground rivers that cut through Blackreach, the water having an almost milky quality to it. As I walked I was careful of the things I was sure were lurking in the shadows. Dwemer constructs or those…  _things._ I didn't want to think of what they'd do to me if they actually managed to catch me.

A bridge led across the water to the tower itself, which stretched up into the cavern's ceiling. Pushing the door open, I found a small chamber inside. At the center was a lever. I pushed it down and the gears in the walls of the chamber rumbled to life, lifting the floor of the room up.

I stepped off the lift at the top and passed through a short hallway. On the other side was a circular room mostly taken up by a massive Dwemer machine. I followed a ramp along the wall up to its top. There a set of strange glass lenses hung from the ceiling. A platform at the very back held a panel with a set of buttons. Along one side was a short pillar with a kind of rest at the top. The lexicon fit in perfectly.

The instant I put it in, the covers over some of the buttons flipped open. Cautiously, I pressed one of them. The top of the device below spun and clicked into place. I pressed it a few more times, and another of the buttons opened. When I pressed that one, the lenses swung down, forming a beam of light that led straight onto the device below. A final button, farthest on the left, opened. I pushed it.

The lenses swung back and a glass-covered capsule lowered. It opened with a loud  _hiss,_ revealing what looked like a scroll inside, wound up on several bars. I grabbed the lexicon, which was now covered in glowing blue designs, and hurried down.

The Elder Scroll was attached to a gilded case, which I used to roll it back up once I'd carefully unhooked it from the machine. I made sure not to look directly at the writings on the Scroll itself. I faintly remembered what it could do if I wasn't careful, and I didn't want to risk it until I had to.

Now it was just a matter of getting back out again.


	16. Dragonrend

"You have it," Paarthurnax said as I approached him. "The  _Kel_ – the Elder Scroll.  _Tiid kreh… qalos._ Time shudders at its touch."

The dragon's wings flapped in an agitated way as he went on, "There is no question. You are doom-driven.  _Kagaan Akatosh._ The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then. Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."

I looked in the direction the dragon indicated with his snout. There, some way off, I saw a patch of air that seemed to… shimmer. That had to be it. I hurried over, my boots crunching over the snow. Pulling out the Elder Scroll, I unrolled it and examined its contents.

The parchment was covered with strange markings. As I stared at them, they started to glow and spin. My vision blurred and everything suddenly went white.

When the world came back into focus, everything was still hazy. I was exactly where I was standing moments before, but the sky above me was the color of blood. Somewhere nearby I heard the roar of dragons. It sounded like  _dozens_ of dragons. Smoke rose in huge clouds in the distance.

A Nord ran into view then, shouting, "Gormlaith! We're running out of time! The battle–"

He was cut off when I dragon landed behind him. The man whirled, drawing his axe.

" _Daar sul thur se Alduin vokrii,_ " the dragon sneered. "Today Alduin's lordship will be restored. But I honor your courage.  _Krif voth ahkrin._ Die now in vain."

The Nord dodged the torrent of flame that burst from the dragon's maw. As he swung his axe at the dragon's head, he shouted, "For Skyrim!"

They battled, a chaotic mix of hacking axe and snapping jaws. A woman ran into view at that moment, her blonde hair streaming behind her and her face set with determination. She raised her sword high.

"Know that Gormlaith sent you down to death!" She cried as she plunged her sword into one of the dragon's eyes. When she ripped out her blade, the dragon collapsed, dead.

Turning to the man, she let out an exhilarated laugh. "Hakon! A glorious day, is it not?"

"Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?" He snapped.

"What else is there?"

"The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost."

She waved his concern off. "You worry too much, brother. Victory will be ours."

Both of them turned at the sound of footsteps on the snow. Another man, much older and wearing robes as opposed to their armor, hurried over to them.

"Why does Alduin hang back?" Hakon asked him. "We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man."

"He will come," the newcomer insisted. "He cannot ignore out defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?"

"We've bloodied him well. Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day," Gormlaith pointed out.

"But none have yet stood against Alduin himself. Galthor, Sorri, Birkir…"

" _They_ did not have Dragonrend. Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head."

The man in the robes shook his head. "You do not understand. Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength. Which is why I brought the Elder Scroll."

He lifted up the Scroll, the same one I'd gotten from the Dwemer ruin. The other two stepped back warily.

"Felldir! We agreed not to use it!" Hakon shouted at him.

"I never agreed. And if you are right, I will not need it."

"We will deal with Alduin ourselves, here and now," the warrior insisted.

"We shall see soon enough. Alduin approaches!"

Gormlaith pointed to the sky, at the massive black dragon that swooped overhead. He landed on an outcropping of rock and glared down at the three humans below him with unbridled contempt. He snarled something at them in the dragon language before throwing back his head and roaring. The sky rumbled ominously for a moment before fireballs rained down on the mountaintop.

"Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!" Gormlaith cried.

As one, the three humans released a Shout just as Alduin began to take flight again.

" _Joor zah frul!_ "

A pulse of blue light escaped them, hitting the airborne dragon. His scales crackled with it and he came crashing back down again. He let out a furious roar.

" _Nivahriin joorre!_ What have you done? What twisted Words have you created?  _Tahrodiis Paarthurnax!_ My teeth to his neck! But first…  _dir ko maar._ You will die in terrior, knowing your final fate: to feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!"

"If I die today, it will  _not_ be in terror!"

Gormlaith rushed forward, striking at Alduin with a flurry of slashes. As she did, she taunted, "You feel fear for the first time, worm. I see it in your eyes. Skyrim will be free!"

Snapping his jaws, Alduin caught her in his teeth. He shook her several times before throwing her. She slammed into a boulder some distance away and lay still.

"No, damn you!" Hakon bellowed.

When he barely dodged Alduin's attack aimed at him, he shouted at his remaining companion, "It's no use! Use the Scroll, Felldir! Now!"

Felldir stepped back, out of range of Alduin's flapping wings and snapping jaws. Pulling out the scroll, he unrolled it and spoke.

"Hold, Alduin on the Wing! Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with older bones than your own we break your perch on this age and send you out! You are banished! Alduin, we Shout you out from all our endings unto the last!"

Alduin swung his massive head around to face Felldir, his glowing eyes wide. His whole body seemed to shake. A strange hazy green mist appeared around him. His head whipped around again to stare at it.

" _Faal Kel…? Nikriinne…"_

With a roar, he was sucked back into nothingness and vanished.

"You are banished!"

Hakon looked around, breathing hard.

"It worked…" he said. "You did it…"

Felldir sighed. "Yes, the World-Eater is gone… May the spirits have mercy on our souls."

There was another flash of blinding light. I staggered back, blinking to clear my eyes. When I could see again, I suddenly found myself gazing up at a very real Alduin above me. He sneered, baring his long fangs.

" _Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor._ My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin," he snarled. "Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!"

Dropping the Scroll, I drew my bow and aimed an arrow right at his ugly head.

" _Lost funt._ You are too late, Alduin!" Paarthurnax cried.

With a roar, Alduin climbed higher into the sky over the mountain.

"Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend, if you know it!" With that, the other dragon leapt into the sky as well.

I watched the two dragons circle overhead. They lashed out at each other with fire and ice, with teeth and claws. They left me no opening to use the Shout. I didn't want to accidentally hit Paarthurnax.

With a sharp kick, Alduin broke away from his opponent. Seizing the opportunity, I Shouted the words of Dragonrend at him.

" _Joor zah frul!"_

The Shout ripped from me and I doubled over in agony as it seared through my chest and tore at my throat. Tears stung at my eyes and I fought to breathe. There was a loud  _boom_ somewhere nearby, presumably from Alduin crashing down. I straightened and tried to steady myself before drawing back an arrow and firing it at him. He just shook it off.

"You may have picked up the weapons of my ancient foes, but you are not their equal!" He growled. He reared back, his maw opening wide. Paarthurnax suddenly landed between us and I leapt back, watching in horror as the gray dragon blocked the flame Alduin had been about to Shout at me.

When the burst of flame ended, Paarthurnax gasped, "Now, Dovahkiin! Now he is vulnerable! Strike with all your force!"

Drawing my sword, I dashed around the dragon toward Alduin. Before he could move to attack, I jumped and plunged my sword into his skull. For a moment I thought I had won. Then he laughed.

" _Meyz mul,_ Dovahkiin. You have become strong."

Wrenching the blade from his head, I staggered back. He grinned wickedly at me, blood trickling over the black scales on his face from the wound I'd dealt him. The wound that  _should_ have proven fatal.

"But I am  _Al-du-in,_ Firstborn of Akatosh!  _Mulaagi zok lot!_ I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you, mortal!"

Mortal. Not as much as he thought.

He took off, black wings flapping and stirring up the snow in flurries, before vanishing into the distance.

Well, a lot of good  _that_ did us.

There was a pained groan from behind me, and I turned sharply to see Paarthurnax wincing. His scales were marred with burns and deep, ugly gashes from the fight. I hurried over.

"Hold on, let me see what I can do," I told him, summoning a healing spell to my fingertips. It glowed a warm gold color on my hands as I worked to close the wounds that covered the dragon.

" _Lot krongrah,_ " Paarthurnax said to me as I worked, his breaths coming in pained gasps. "You truly have the Voice of a dovah. Alduin's allies will think twice after this victory."

"I would hope so," I murmured. "But it wasn't really a victory. Alduin escaped."

" _Ni liivrah hin moro._ True, this is not the final  _krongrah_ – victory. But not even the heroes of old were able to defeat Alduin in open battle. Alduin was  _pahlok –_ arrogant in his power.  _Uznahgar paar._ He took domination as his birthright."

"I still need to find out where he went."

"Yes… one of his allies could tell us.  _Motmahus…_ But it will not be so easy to…" he cut off with a low growl as I healed up one of the worse gashes, "… convince one of them to betray him."

"What do you suggest, then?"

"Perhaps the  _hofkahsejun –_ the palace in Whiterun… Dragonsreach. It was originally built to house a captive  _dovah."_

I looked up at him, surprised. "Was it really?"

"Yes. This was ages ago, you understand. There were more of us then. Before the  _bruniikke –_ the Akaviri – came and killed all my  _zeymah_. I used to visit him from time to time. Nearly crazed by loneliness and captivity.  _Tiiraz sivaas._ He did not even remember his own name. I do not know how he came to be caught, but the  _bronjun…_ the Jarl… was very proud of his pet.  _Paak!_ The  _hofkahsejun_ has been known as Dragonsreach ever since."

Paarthurnax descended into melancholy silence. That was when I remembered the dragon skull on the wall over Jarl Balgruuf's throne. I didn't have to ask where it came from.

After a few moments, the old dragon said, "Still, a fine place to trap one of Alduin's allies, hmm?"

I smirked. "The Jarl of Whiterun might not think so."

"Hmm, yes. But your  _su'um_ is strong. I do not doubt that you can convince him of the need."

"Right." My expression hardened as I murmured, "I barely know what I'm doing. It feels like a mistake that I'm even here at all."

" _Ful ahzid._ Do not doubt yourself or your power. You fought Alduin. You made it this far.  _Lost sahvot…_ Have faith, Dovahkiin. You will prevail."


	17. Unending

As I'd expected, Balgruuf didn't take my request well.

"I must have misheard you," the Jarl said to me, staring at me as though he was sure I'd suddenly lost my mind. "I thought you asked me to help you  _trap a dragon in my palace_."

"You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," I reminded him.

As I'd expected, Balgruuf didn't take my request well.

"I must have misheard you," the Jarl said, staring at me as though he was sure I'd suddenly lost my mind. "I thought you asked me to help you  _trap a dragon in my palace_."

"You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," I reminded him.

"What you're asking for is insane. Impossible!" He spluttered. "You want me to let a dragon into the heart of my city, with the threat of war on my doorstep?"

"It's the only way to stop the dragon attacks."

"There must be another way. The risk is too great."

"There  _isn't_ another way, believe me. The threat is worse than you know. Alduin has returned."

" _Alduin?_ The World-Eater himself? But…" Balgruuf floundered. "… How can  _we_ fight him? Doesn't his return mean it's the end times?"

I crossed my arms and frowned at him. "It's only hopeless if we give up."

"I didn't say anything about giving up. Now what's this nonsense about trapping a dragon in my palace?"

"It's the only way I can find Alduin before it's too late."

He rubbed his temples, saying, "I want to help you, Dragonborn, but do you think the Stormcloaks will sit idle while this dragon is slaughtering my men and burning down my city? No. I can't risk weakening the city while we are under the threat of an enemy attack."

I hesitated for a moment. "What if you didn't have to worry about an enemy attack?"

"Then I would be glad to help you with your mad dragon-trapping scheme, but getting both sides to agree to a truce will be difficult at this point. The bitterness has gone too deep. Maybe… hmm… What of the Greybeards? They are respected by all Nords. High Hrothgar is neutral territory. If the Greybeards were willing to hose a peace council… then maybe Ulfric and Tullius would have to listen."

"Leave that to me," I said. "I'll talk to Arngeir about it."

"Aye, Dragonborn. Maybe you can stop the dragons – and this war into the bargain."

* * *

 

It took some effort, but I finally managed to convince all the parties to agree to the peace council. Ulfric had only given his word after hearing that Tullius had agreed to it first, the stubborn guar.

As all those involved arrived at the monastery, Arngeir grumbled from beside me, "So, you've done it. The men of violence are gathered here, in these halls whose very stones are dedicated to peace. I should not have agreed to host this council. The Greybeards have no business involving ourselves in such matters."

"I don't like this any more than you do," I murmured. "But this was the only way to get Balgruuf's help."

"Yes, yes. Which is why I allowed this…  _violation_ of all our traditions. But regrets are pointless. Here we are. Take your seat at the council table and let us see what wisdom we can find among these warriors of Skyrim."

Before we could head down the hall to where the others were already waiting, the monastery doors opened again. I glanced back over my shoulder and my eyes widened.

It was Delphine and Esbern. She wore a full suit of Blade's armor, just like the kind I remembered everyone wearing at Cloud Ruler, while he was dressed in all black. Both of them stopped before us.

"So," Delphine said, putting her hands on her hips, "Arngeir, is it? You know why we're here. Are you going to let us in or not?"

"You were not invited here. You are not welcome here."

"We have as much right to be at this council as all of you. More, actually, since we were the ones that put the Dragonborn on this path."

" _Delphine_ ," I said quietly, warningly.

"Were you? The hubris of the Blades truly knows no bounds."

Esbern touched her shoulder. "Delphine, we're not here to rehearse old grudges. The matter at hand is urgent. Alduin must be stopped." He looked over at the assembled Greybeards. "You wouldn't have called this council if you didn't agree. We know a great deal about the situation and the threat that Alduin poses to us all. You need us here if you want this council to succeed."

Arngeir glanced at the other Greybeards before sighing and relenting, "Very well. You may enter."

We headed down one of the wings of the monastery to a large room where a circular table was set up. The others were already standing by the chairs. While the other Greybeards stood in the corners of the chamber, Arngeir went to the chair at one end of the circle while I went to the one on the other. Tense silence descended. I glanced to my right to see a scowling Ulfric. Tullius glared right back at him from my left. And I was smack in the middle. Great.

"Now that everyone is here, please take your seats so we can begin," Arngeir called. Everyone sat.

Except Ulfric and his lieutenant.

"No. You insult us by bringing  _her_  to this negotiation?" He snarled. He was pointing straight at Elenwen, who was seated on the Imperial side of the table. "Your chief Talos-Hunter?"

"That didn't take long…" Rikke grumbled beside me.

The Thalmor Ambassador lifted her chin haughtily. "I have every right to be at this negotiation. I need to ensure that nothing is agreed to here that violates the terms of the White-Gold Concordat." My fists clenched underneath the table.

"She's part of the Imperial delegation," Tullius cut in. "You can't dictate who I bring to this council."

Arngeir rubbed his forehead, obviously agitated. "Please. If we have to negotiate the terms of the negotiation, we will never get anywhere. Perhaps this would be a good time to get the Dragonborn's input on this matter."

All eyes suddenly turned on me. I swallowed.

"What do you think?" Tullius asked me. "Are we going to let Ulfric dictate terms to us before the negotiations even start?"

"No. She may stay."

"How  _dare_ you–"

"The General is right. She  _is_  part of the Imperial delegation. However…" I stood and rounded the table so I was standing right behind her. Then I added in an undertone, "You put one toe out of line, say one word I don't like, and you'll be dead before you take two steps toward that door. You're here because I'm in a good mood and I feel like listening to Tullius, not because of some damn treaty. Am I clear?"

Her golden eyes caught on the amulet that swung around my neck and widened slightly. Then she sneered, "Completely."

"We walk then," Ulfric's crony snapped.

Ulfric held up a hand, stopping him. "No. We'll stay. Out of respect for the Dragonborn and our Greybeard hosts."

I nodded curtly at him and retook my seat.

"But she is to observe, nothing more. We are not negotiating with her, is that clear?"

She smiled in a cold, serpentine way. "Ulfric, why so hostile? After all, it's not the Thalmor that's burning your farms and killing your sons."

"One more word, Elenwen," I snapped. "Now be  _quiet_."

She stared at me from across the table and I stared back, hard.

"Now that that's settled, may we proceed?"

"I have something to say first," Ulfric said.

"Here we go…"

"The only reason I agreed to attend this council was to deal with the dragon menace. There's nothing else to talk about… unless the Empire is finally ready to renounce its unjust claim to rule over the free people of Skyrim."

"I knew he wouldn't be able to resist," Rikke groaned.

"We're here to arrange a temporary truce to allow the Dragonborn here to deal with the dragons. Nothing more." Somehow, I felt this wasn't the case. "I consider even  _talking_ to the Empire a generous gesture."

"Are you done?" Tullius asked curtly. "Did you come here just to make speeches? Or can we get down to business?"

"Yes, let's get this over with."

"Are we ready to proceed?" Arngeir asked. Silence. "Jarl Ulfric. General Tullius. This council is unprecedented. We are gathered here at the Dragonborn's request. I ask that you all respect the spirit of High Hrothgar, and do your best to begin the process of achieving a lasting peace in Skyrim. Who would like to open the negotiations?"

"Yes, let's get down to it." Ulfric stared at Tullius and demanded, "We want control of Markarth. That's our price for agreeing to a truce."

For the first time, the woman sitting between Rikke and Tullius spoke up. "So that's why you're here, Ulfric? You dare insult the Greybeards by using this council to advance your own position?"

"Jarl Elisif, I'll handle this," the General murmured.

"General, this is outrageous! You can't be taking this demand seriously! I thought we were here to discuss a truce!"

"Elisif! I said I'd handle it." The General took a deep breath. "Ulfric, you can't  _seriously_  expect us to give up Markarth at the negotiating table. You hope to gain in council what you've been unable to take in battle, is that it?"

"I'm sure Jarl Ulfric does not expect something for nothing," Arngeir cut in. Ulfric's face paled somewhat.

"Yes," Rikke mumbled, "that would be  _entirely_ out of character…"

"What would the Empire want in return?"

Elisif turned to Tullius with wide eyes. "Wait. General, you don't intend to just hand over Markarth to that…  _traitor?_ "

"This is how the Empire repays us for our loyalty?" Balgruuf snapped.

"Enough!" Tullius set his fists against the table. "First, let's be clear. This council wasn't my idea. I think it's a waste of time. You are a traitor to the Empire, and deserve a traitor's death, but I at least will negotiate in good faith." He looked at me solemnly. "Since we're all here at your request, I'd like to hear what you think Markarth is worth."

I looked at him, then at Ulfric. The Jarl of Windhelm stared at me coldly. I tried to think about what could possibly match the worth of Markarth and put the Empire back on even ground. There was really only one option.

"Riften," I said.

Ulfric's eyes widened and he abruptly got to his feet. Rikke chuckled.

"You heard what she said, Ulfric," Tullius said, looking like he was holding back a smirk as well. "We've made you a fair offer. Are you serious about these talks, or are you just here to posture?"

"I expected  _better_  from you, Dragonborn," Ulfric spat. "I came here in good faith, despite your known Imperial sympathies."

I got to my feet, too. "And I'm here to make sure everything comes out fairly. You get Markarth, they get Riften. An even trade.  _Now sit down,_ " I snapped, pointing at his seat.

"No!"

"Stop! Are you so  _blind_ to our danger that you can't see past your petty disagreements?" Esbern looked between us and stood slowly. Then he began pacing. "Here you sit arguing about nothing, while the fate of the land hangs in the balance!"

"Is he with you, Delphine? If so, I advise you to tell him to watch his tongue."

"He is with me," Delphine told Ulfric coldly, "and I advise you to listen to what he has to say before you do anything rash."

"Don't you understand the danger? Don't you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin has returned. The World-Eater! Even now, he devours the souls of your fallen comrades. He grows more powerful with every soldier slain in your pointless war! Can you not put aside your hatred for even one moment in the face of this mortal danger?"

"A very pretty speech," Elenwen said, "but what does it have to do with–"

"Shut up," I snarled.

"If he's right about Alduin… we both have just as much to lose here, Tullius. Remember that. Now, back to the matter at hand." The three of us took our seats. "Don't hand me a mug of sheep's piss and call it mead. These terms are still not acceptable."

"I'm sure you have something in mind."

"Damn right we do," Galmar grumbled.

"You surrender Hjaalmarch to us, and take Idgrod Ravencrone with you. Sorli the Builder will take over as Jarl of Morthal."

"Where do these demands stop, Ulfric?" Tullius groaned. "Do you expect me to surrender all of Skyrim?"

"It seems I have no choice but to let the Dragonborn decide. Although I'm starting to doubt your fairness."

I glared at him. "It was a fair trade, Ulfric. But if you're too damn netch-brained to see that, you can–"

" _Don't,_ " Rikke murmured, stopping me.

I glared at Ulfric and took a deep breath. "Fine. The Empire doesn't need to give up any more territory, and neither do you. You're both on even ground at this moment, and we are  _not_  here to give one side or the other the advantage."

"Even the Dragonborn betrays Skyrim."

I leapt to my feet, fury boiling in my veins and pulsing in my throat. "I'm betraying no one, you pompous, stubborn, no good son of a–"

"Stand down!" Rikke grabbed my arm and tugged me back into my seat.

"These terms are not acceptable, you know that."

"I'm listening," Tullius said, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't play dumb, Tullius!"

Ulfric looked away with a hint of a growl. "Bah! This is a waste of time. I can see we won't get better terms from this council. So be it. The sons of Skyrim at least put the greater good above our own interests."

With obvious relief, Arngeir said, "It seems we have an agreement. Jarl Ulfric, General Tullius… these are the terms currently on the table. Markarth will be handed over to Ulfric's forces. Jarl Igmund will step down, and Thongvor Silver-Blood will become Jarl of Markarth. The Stormcloaks will withdraw from the Rift, allowing Imperial troops unhindered access. Jarl Laila Law-Giver will step down and Maven Black-Briar will become the Jarl of Riften. You both agree to this?"

"I shouldn't agree to terms that so blatantly favor the Empire," Ulfric sniffed. "I have no choice, though, under the circumstances. But once Alduin is defeated, then it will be the Empire's turn. Remember…  _"Evgir Unslaad.""_ He smirked at the woman seated between Rikke and Tullius. "You should be pleased, Elisif. You've done well for yourself as the Empire's pet Jarl. But beware – the Empire's loyalty is fickle. They will tire of this war, and then I will be the one dictating terms to you."

Elisif turned her head away and her eyes narrowed angrily. "I have nothing to say to that murderer. General, you've proven yourself a good friend to Skyrim. I continue to trust that you will do your utmost to safeguard our interests."

"Thank you, Jarl Elisif. I appreciate your loyalty," The General said, inclining his head to her in acknowledgment of her words. "The Empire can live with these terms, yes. For a temporary truce, until the dragon menace is dealt with. After that, Ulfric… there  _will_  be a reckoning. Count on it."

Ulfric and his man stood and walked out of the room.

"Giving up Markarth is a heavy price for this truce, Dragonborn. I hope it was worth it," Jarl Balgruuf said to me.

"It will be."

"Jarl Balgruuf, I assume you are familiar with the Dragonborn's plan?" Arngeir asked.

"Yes. I'm ready to do my part. Just say the word, and my men will help you spring this trap."

"But the difficulty remains… how to lure a dragon to Dragonsreach at all?"

"Well, that's an excellent question," Tullius said, crossing his arms. "You haven't overlooked that little detail, have you?"

Before I could even think of a response, Esbern beat me to it.

"I believe I can be of help here," he said. "I anticipated the problem. While you were arranging this meeting, I was busy in the library of Sky Haven Temple. An unguessed trove of lost lore… but the important thing is that the Blades recorded many of the names of dragons they slew. Cross-referencing this with Delphine's map of dragon burial sites, I believe I've identified one of the dragons Alduin has raised up."

"How does that help us?" I asked.

"Don't you see? The names of dragons are always three Words of Power. Shouts. By calling the dragon with the Voice, he will hear you wherever he might be."

"And why would he come when called?"

The old Blade chuckled. "He's not  _compelled_ to, but dragons are prideful by nature and loath to refuse a challenge. Your Voice in particular is likely to intrigue this dragon, after your victory over Alduin. I think it very likely that he will be unable to resist investigating your call."

"So what's his name?"

"Ah, indeed." Esbern fumbled for a moment before pulling out a scroll. "I'm no master of the voice like these worthy gentlemen, but it is written here in this scroll.  _Od-Ah-Viing_. "Winged Snow Hunter," as I read it."

"Thanks."

Everyone stood and slowly filtered towards the doors. As they left, I could hear Rikke chortle, "I'd give a week's pay to see the look on Ulfric's face again, when he had to swallow the terms of the truce."

I started to follow them out.

"There's one more thing. We know about Paarthurnax."

I tensed and I could almost feel the blood in my veins turn to ice. The sound of receding footsteps echoed down the hall as a cold silence descended between Delphine and me.

"You know… what?" I asked her. My throat suddenly felt very dry and my heart pounded.

"Paarthurnax. The dragon that the Greybeards have been protecting for all these years," she said.

I turned slowly to face her. Her pale blue eyes were icy with disdain. I'd kept it from her. She didn't trust me. She  _never_  trusted me.

"What about him?"

"He needs to die. He deserves to die. And it falls to you to kill him."

" _What?"_ I gasped."He helped us! Why would you–"

"We needed his help. Now we don't, and it's long past time for him to pay for his crimes. He was the right hand of Alduin. He committed atrocities so infamous they are still remembered, thousands of years later."

"You're going to punish him for something that happened  _thousands_ of years ago? Is it so hard to give him a second chance?"

She slammed her hands down on the table and stood. Her eyes flashed. "Here's the big picture. He helped Alduin enslave our ancestors. He may have betrayed Alduin in the end, but that makes him worse, not better. We can't afford to give Paarthurnax the opportunity to betray us in turn, and return to his old master."

"He's changed, Delphine. He saved my life when Alduin came after me. He doesn't deserve this."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand. You don't–"

"I don't? I don't  _what_ , Delphine?" I shoved my face into hers and snapped, "I don't know about second chances? I'm not a child! I wouldn't be here to save all your sorry arses if I hadn't been given another chance. I'm alive because I couldn't save the real hero, so now I've got to set things right.  _And I'm not about to mess it all up just to kill one of the only souls left in this world who really deserves to live!_ "

"You dare call yourself a Blade?"

"Not anymore. Not if this is what you've stooped to." My chest constricted painfully as I growled, "There was a time when Blades stood for so much more than this. When they willingly took in a man who  _wasn't_ the hero they were expecting. He was no one. He was a no one who had once been a servant of an enemy, but they fought with their lives to protect him!"

Esbern and the Greybeards raced into the room. They looked between Delphine and me, utterly stunned.

"If you won't bring Paarthurnax to justice, then I'll do it myself."

"No!" Arngeir cried. The walls shook.

Delphine drew her sword. I drew my own.

"Step aside," she said coolly.

Power roiled through my veins and coiled, serpent-like, around my heart. " _Zun haal viik!_ "

Her sword was wrenched from her hands. It clattered and skidded away across the stone floor. Her eyes widened.

"You'll never be half the Blade Baurus was," I snarled. "Now, get off this mountain before I  _throw_ you off."

Silence. Then, "You're nothing but a traitor, Mara Fides."

Nodding to Esbern, the two of them left.

I stood there in the emptiness that followed, fists clenched, my whole body shaking. Turning on my heel, I marched out of the council room. One step. Two steps. I had to keep walking. I couldn't look back and see the Greybeards' staring faces. My anger at Delphine wasn't dissipating. It was  _building_. I had to get out.

I shoved open the monastery doors and walked out into the courtyard with measured steps as I fought to control myself. The energy was roiling in my veins and burning on my tongue. I swallowed it down. I had to keep calm. I took a few more steps. My boots crunched through the snow.

_Traitor… traitor… traitor…_

I gripped the sides of my head and hissed through my teeth. My breath came out in tendrils, like wisps of white smoke befitting the dragon that I was. Human, dragon, hero, traitor. What was I?

Misstep. I fell to my knees in the snow, still holding my head. My hands trembled. The more I came to know about myself, the less I seemed to understand. What was I? What had I ever been?

I couldn't run. I couldn't hide. Trying only led to war and ruin. I wouldn't be free. I couldn't be free. And the knowledge that the one comfort I craved would forever elude me sent another shard of grief into my heart.

"Forgive me," I gasped. "I'm trying. I'm trying. I wish you were here. I don't know what to do _. I don't know what to do_ …"


	18. Pride

"We're ready," Dragonborn," Balgruuf told me solemnly when I returned to Dragonsreach. "Just say the word."

"Everything's in place?" I asked.

The Jarl nodded. "As I promised, my men stand ready. The great chains are oiled. We wait on your word.

"Let's go trap a dragon," I told him, my voice grim.

"My men know what to do. Make sure  _you_  do your part. I'm putting my city in your hands."

I nodded and followed both him and Irileth up to the back of the palace and through a set of great double doors. On the other side was a large room, the far end open to the sky in a wide balcony. It was more than big enough to trap a dragon. I hoped.

"You  _do_ have a plan for luring a dragon here, yeah?" Balgruuf asked me, his tone betraying his nerves about the whole situation.

"Yes. Just make sure your men are ready once I get him here," I said.

I stepped out onto the balcony and looked up at the sky. Behind me, I heard the Housecarl shouting for everyone to get into positions and the sound of hurried footsteps as they rushed to comply. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

" _Odahviing!_ "

My Shout came out loud as a clap of thunder. Several of the guards staggered back and stared at me in shock.

For several minutes, there was nothing. I squinted at the sky, searching for any sign of him. Balgruuf sighed. Then one of the guards asked in a hushed voice, "Hear that?"

I did. It was the sound of giant wings pumping the air. I turned my head just in time to see a red dragon soar down toward us from the side. All of us standing on the balcony hastily stepped back, but one of the guards was too slow. The dragon swooped down and snatched him up in his claws. As the dragon gained height again, I saw the man fall toward the earth in the distance.

"Steady!" Balgruuf shouted at the other guards. "Steady, now! Keep under cover until it's down!"

When Odahviing made another pass for us, I shouted Dragonrend at him and he came crashing down onto the balcony with a  _boom_ that I swore shook the whole palace. As before, I practically fell to my knees, gasping in pain. Damn it, the ancient Nords had made it look so much easier than that!

As the dragon shook himself out of his daze, I gritted my teeth and scrambled to my feet.

He bared his fangs at me as he roared, "Dovahkiin! Here I am!"

"Get back! Get back!" I heard Balgruuf shout at his men. "We need to trap it, not kill it! Wait until it's well inside!"

I staggered backward into the room, ducking to avoid the flames he spat at me. He crawled forward on his wings and hind legs, following me deeper in. That was when I felt my back press against the door leading into the palace. My heart pounded. The dragon opened his jaws again to release another jet of flame, one that I wouldn't be able to avoid.

That was when an enormous wooden bar swung down and clamped around his neck. The dragon's eyes widened in shock and he shook frantically at it. The binding didn't budge.

" _Nid!_ " He roared, furious and perhaps a little afraid.

"I think it's holding!" One of the guards shouted.

" _Horvutah med kodaav._  Caught like a bear in a trap…" Odahviing sounded almost ashamed. I took several steps toward him and he looked at me with dark gray eyes. " _Zok frini grind ko grah drun viiki,_  Dovahkiin." When I didn't respond, he shook his head slowly. "Ah. I forget. You do not have the  _dovah_  speech. My… eagerness to meet you in battle was my undoing, Dovahkiin. I salute your, hmm, low cunning in devising such a  _grahmindol_  – stratagem.  _Zu'u bonaar_. You went to a great deal of trouble to put me in this… humiliating position.  _Hind siiv Alduin_ , hmm? No doubt you want to know where to find Alduin?"

"Where is he hiding?" I asked him, stopping before his face and crossing my arms.

" _Rinik vazah._ An apt phrase. Alduin  _bovul_. One reason I came to your call was to test your Thu'um for myself. Many of us have begun to question Alduin's lordship, whether his Thu'um was truly the strongest." He hesitated. "Among ourselves, of course.  _Mu ni meyye._  None were yet ready to openly defy him."

"So. You were telling me where to find Alduin?"

" _Unslaad krosis._ Innumerable pardons. I digress. He has travelled to Sovngarde to regain his strength, devouring the  _sillesejoor…_ the souls of the mortal dead. A privilege he jealously guards. His door to Sovngarde is at Skuldafn, one of his ancient fanes high in the eastern mountains.  _Mondoraan, pah ok middovahhe lavhraan til._ I surely do not need to warn you that all his remaining strength is marshaled there."

Not a surprise, but it wasn't as if I had much choice in going, did I?

" _Zu'u lost ofan hin laan…_ Now that I have answered your question, you will allow me to go free?" He asked, sounding hopeful.

"Not until Alduin is defeated." I started to walk back towards the door. Somehow, I needed to find a way into this Skuldafn.

"Ah, well. Hmm…  _krosis_. There is one… detail about Skuldafn I neglected to mention."

I hesitated. "What is it?"

"Only this. You have the thu'um of a  _dovah_ , but without the wings of one, you will never set foot in Skuldafn. Of course, I could fly you there, but not while imprisoned like this."

I turned around, snapping, "And you expect me to just take your word for it?"

" _Ahraan_. You wound me, Dovahkiin. I may not tell the whole truth, but I am no liar. Go and see for yourself.  _Zu'u ni bo nol het._ I will be here… unless Alduin returns before you do."

Jaw clenching, I looked away. On one hand, letting that dragon just go was dangerous, to say the least. Normally I'd  _never_  have even considered it. On the other, if he was telling the truth about Skuldafn, which he likely was…

I looked back, eyes hard, to see him watching me expectantly.

"You have reconsidered my offer, hmm?" He asked. " _Onikaan kron?_ You will release me –  _ro laan_  – if in return I promise to take you to Skuldafn and stop helping Alduin?"

"Fine. Don't make me regret this," I growled.

" _Onikaan koraav gein miraad._ It is wise to recognize when you only have one choice. And you can trust me.  _Zu'u ni tahrodiis._ Alduin has proven himself unworthy to rule. I go my own way now. Free me, and I will carry you to Skuldafn."

Nodding, I made for the set of stairs leading up to the mechanisms controlling the trap. As I did, one of the doors opened and Farengar poked his head in. The mage's eyes went impossibly wide at the sight of the dragon before him.

"Incredible!" He hurried outside. "Uh… sir, you have  _no idea_  how long I have waited for such an opportunity! I would be most appreciative if you would permit me to perform some, ah, tests on you. Purely in the interests of the advancement of knowledge."

Odahviing glared down at the human with a look of distaste and snarled, "Begone, mage. Do not test my promise to the Dovahkiin."

Farengar was already moving, and Odahviing strained his long neck trying to keep him in sight.

"I assure you, you will not even notice me. Most of them are hardly painful at all to a large dragon such as yourself."

"Farengar, very bad idea. Even for you," Irileth called.

"Surely you wouldn't miss a few scales… or a small amount of blood…"

" _Joor mey!_ " The dragon snarled. "What are you doing back there?"

He suddenly roared, spitting fire up to the ceiling as he threw his head back. A moment later I saw the mage hurriedly dash across the room, back into the palace, and slam the door shut behind him. I had to lean against the wall as I stifled a snort of laughter.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I climbed up to the top where one of the guards stood by the controls for the chains.

"I can't believe I'm still alive," he breathed.

Nodding at the chains, I told him, "Open the trap."

He stared at me. "You sure about that? You want to let that dragon loose after all the trouble to catch him in there?"

When I nodded, he looked down over the edge at Balgruuf, and shouted, "This seems like a really bad idea to me."

"Carry on, soldier. This is all part of the Dragonborn's plan."

The guard sighed. "All right. Your funeral. Someone else is gonna have to help you get him back in there again." To the men on the other side, he called, "Get ready to open the trap!"

As I hurried down the stairs again there was a loud clanking noise as the bar unhooked from around Odahviing's neck and lifted back up toward the ceiling. He shook his head and grinned widely.

" _Faas nu, zini dein ruthi ahst vaal_."

"By the all the gods," Irileth gasped, drawing her sword.

The dragon just turned around, a feat made difficult by the semi-enclosed space, and lumbered back out onto the balcony. I followed, Balgruuf and Irileth close behind. Once I was out there, Odahviing looked down at me.

" _Saraan uth_ ," he said to me. "I await you command, as promised. Are you ready to see the world as only a  _dovah_ can?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

He chuckled. " _Zok brit uth!_ I warn you, once you've flown the skies of  _Keizaal,_ your envy of the  _dov_ will only increase."

He lowered his head, resting it against the floor. " _Amativ! Mu bo kotin stinselok."_

I climbed up, sitting down on the back of his head and gripping his horns so that I wouldn't fall off in the air. The Jarl and Housecarl walked over and looked up at me.

Irileth shook her head and commented, "You're either the bravest person I've ever met, or the biggest fool."

"I'm not sure which one I am either," I said, laughing quietly.

Odahviing launched skyward at that moment, catching me off guard, and I hung on for dear life. The wind whipped loose strands of hair around my face.

As we flew away, I heard Balgruuf shout after me, "May Kynareth guard you while you pass through her realm!"

* * *

 

We landed on a ledge overlooking the massive ruined complex of Skuldafn. It was as close as Odahviing would dare to go. I stood beside the dragon as we looked down at the fortress.

"This is as far as I can take you," he said, his voice a quiet rumble. " _Krif voth ahkrin._ I will look for your return… or Alduin's."

When I nodded, he leapt back into the sky and quickly disappeared from view. As he did, I heard the nearby roars of several other dragons. He'd warned me about Alduin's forces. It seemed he wouldn't disappoint.

Crouching low, I drew my bow and crept down toward the ruin. A brown dragon perched on one of the stone arches ahead. As I approached, its eyes narrowed. I saw it open its jaws and hastily ducked behind a nearby pillar as a jet of flame roared toward me. I winced as I felt the heat from the flames around me. There was the sound of flapping wings and a loud roar. Popping out from my hiding spot, I Shouted up at the dragon and sent it crashing into one of the mountains surrounding the ruin. Rocks tumbled down from the cliff face. Not wanting to risk the dragon coming back, I ran, pulling open the door to the ruin and slipping inside.

Everything was Nordic in style, like I'd seen in Bleak Falls Barrow or Korvanjund. As with the other two, I heard the footsteps of the undead draugr roaming the halls. I slipped through as quietly as I could, not wanting to get into a fight just yet. From the footsteps, I could tell that there were a lot of them. Too many to risk confrontation.

At the end of the long, winding tunnels was a puzzle door. A lone draugr stood guard in front of it. I shot an arrow between its eyes and, once it crumpled, hurried forward and examined the body. In a bag on its hip was one of the claw keys, this one made of gold for the foot and diamond spikes for the claws themselves. Turning the rings to the correct combination, I unlocked the door using the claw, stepping through the archway and outside once the panel sunk into the floor.

A flight of ruined stairs led to the very top of the ruin. I ascended carefully, trying not to slip and fall as I climbed over the large chunks of rubble that littered the steps.

When it finally leveled out, I found myself staring at a jet of blue and gold light that roared into the sky from a massive basin set into the floor. Between it and me was a platform with stone steps leading up to it. On top I saw a black silhouette against the bright light.

When I approached, the figure wrenched what looked like a staff from the platform. The light abruptly died. When it turned to face me, I saw that it was wearing burnished armor made to look like dragon scales and a tattered cloak. A mask covered its face. I drew my sword.

I dodged left and right to avoid the crackling trails of sparks the creature aimed at me. It raised its staff too slowly to block the strike I aimed at it. There was the sound of tearing fabric and crunching bone as my swing cut through its neck. An eerie shriek emanated from it as it crumpled. An instant later there was nothing left but its armor and cloak surrounding a pile of dust. The empty eyes of the mask stared up at me, almost seeming to glare. Behind me, I could still hear the crackling of the sparks that no doubt still danced on the ground.

I retrieved the staff from where it fell. The whole thing was made of dark gray metal. Its head was designed to look like a stylized dragon, covered in intricate swirling patterns. Taking it, I climbed up to the top of the platform. Sure enough, there was a slot the correct size for the base of the staff. When I placed it in, there was a loud  _crack_ as the ground before the platform split apart. The pieces of stone sank down, swirling in a bright vortex as the beam of light reappeared. I stared down at it. It must have been the portal that Odahviing mentioned.

There was only one way in.

Steeling myself, I closed my eyes and jumped into the void below.


	19. Sovngarde

For a moment there was nothing. I just floated, weightless. Then my feet abruptly met solid ground. I opened my eyes.

The place I found myself standing in was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The dark sky shimmered in places with hazy rainbows of light, cut off just above the horizon by the tops of shadowy peaks. Despite the golden flames in the braziers that lit the path I stood on, everything I saw had a faint bluish-purple tinge. Tall stone statues depicting solemn hooded figures stood in a long row on either side of me. In the distance I thought I saw some kind of building. It was huge, far bigger than Dragonsreach. Maybe even bigger than the Imperial Palace. I saw faint lights in its windows. That had to be Sovngarde.

Between it and where I stood was a long valley filled with thick white mist. A set of winding stairs led down into it. From somewhere out there, I heard a dragon's echoing roar.

Alduin.

I hurried down the steps and into the mist. The moment that I passed into it, everything went strangely quiet. Even my footsteps were heavily muffled. A chill went down my spine and not just from the cold that seeped in from the overpowering cloud around me. There was something… wrong about the mist. Something evil. It was that cursed dragon's doing. What it was for, exactly, I wasn't sure yet, but it couldn't be good.

How long I wandered, lost in that fog, I wasn't sure. Everything looked the same. I couldn't see anything but the thick white mist that swirled around me. Then the outline of a figure appeared before me in the haze. A human figure. I hurried toward it.

He looked like a Stormcloak soldier. He was certainly dressed like one, garbed in a blue-trimmed uniform like the ones they wore. As I got closer, I saw that there was a faint glow about him. It was gold-colored and just barely visible, hanging around him in a thin halo. When he turned around to face me I saw that his eyes were dull with despair.

"Turn back, traveler," he told me, his voice mournful. Hearing the sound was like trying to listen from underwater. His words were faint and echoing. "Terror awaits within this mist. Many have braved the shadowed vale, but vain is all courage against the peril that guards the way."

"What is this?" I asked, gesturing to the fog around us. My voice sounded strange and foreign to my own ears.

He shook his head slowly. "I do not know, but none have passed through. Alduin, his hunger insatiable, hunts the lost souls snared within this shadowed valley. Can you lead the way to where Shor's hall waits, beckoning us on to welcome long sought?"

"I thought I saw it at the other end of the valley, but I don't know which way…"

I glanced around, but again saw nothing but the mist.

"I saw it fair when first I trod this long-sought path," he sighed. "The pain and fear vanished, dreamlike, and a vision beckoned. Shor's hall, shimmering across the clouded vale. But quenched was hope by the shrouding mist – my mind is darkened. I've lost the way and wander blindly."

Walking around in circles was going to get me nowhere.

"All right, forget this." Turning, I shouted, " _Lok vah koor!_ "

A large patch of the mist that surrounded us dissipated, revealing a patch of grass studded with tiny, jewel-colored blossoms. I nodded to the spirit, and pointed off into the mist.

"Follow me," I told him.

"I'll try to hold to your hopeful purpose. Quickly, before this encompassing fog once more snares me in the World-Eater's net."

We ran as I Shouted a clear path through the mist for us to take. Soon I saw it through the dense vapor. Lights. Then the gigantic dark outline of the hall itself. We were almost there. I turned to look back over my shoulder.

The spirit of the Stormcloak had stopped some way back and was staring up in terror at something that I couldn't see. There was a deep, harsh chuckle and the mist closed in around the man. An instant later I heard a scream of fear and pain.

"No!" I shouted.

I started to run back toward him and quickly stopped myself. The mist was beginning to close in around me as well. If I went back, I'd just get lost in the mist again… or worse. Then it would all have been for nothing. Gritting my teeth, I ran toward the building.

The hall of Sovngarde floated, unsupported, over an empty abyss. The only way to reach it was to cross a bridge made of the skeleton of what looked suspiciously like a dragon. On either side of the bridge, rivers flowed over the edge, and the waterfalls they formed tumbled down into the endless nothingness below.

A man stood between me and the start of the bridge. His arms were crossed, as if he was waiting. The closer I got, the more I realized just how tall he was. He had to be at least twice my height. I stared up at him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?" He asked me in a booming voice.

"I've come in pursuit of Alduin, the World-Eater."

He nodded slowly. "A fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold, but Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught – perhaps, deep-counselled, your doom he foresaw."

"Will you let me pass?"

"No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the landed of the dead." He gazed down at me in a way that told me he was studying me. "By what right do you request entry?"

I took a deep breath. "By right of birth. I am Dragonborn."

"Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the Dragon Blood. Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'til I judge them worthy by the warrior's test."

He drew a massive axe and my eyes widened. Oh gods.

I jumped to the side to avoid being cut in half by his swing. As he prepared for the next one, I dashed forward and slashed at his chest, which was bare. Despite the gashes that appeared, he didn't seem fazed. I dodged his next blow, but he managed to hit me with his third. The side of the axe's head slammed into my chest, knocking me to the ground. I gasped and fumbled for my sword as he stood over me.

"You fought well," he said, putting away his axe. The wounds in his chest instantly healed. "I find you worthy. It is long since one of the living has entered here. May Shor's favor follow you and your errand."

Wincing, I slowly got to my feet. Then I grabbed my sword and sheathed it before stepping onto the bridge. I kept my eyes forward, silently telling myself not to look down. It was difficult. There were gaps between the bones of the long dragon spine that made up the bridge. I just prayed that I didn't stumble. When I finally reached the other side, I let out a sigh of relief. Walking up to the massive carved front doors, I pulled one of them open and stepped inside.

The moment I stepped into Sovngarde's hall I was bombarded by sound. Laughter, music, and shouting all echoed off of the stone walls. Massive windows at the far wall looked out into the endless sky. The air was filled with the smell of roasting meat. Hundreds of people at least milled about in the chamber and I saw halls leading off on either side. Some talked in groups. I saw several sparring matches going at once. Many sat at the long tables down the center, eating, drinking, and laughing with one another. A man with elaborately carved armor and long blond hair approached me with a smile.

"Welcome, Dragonborn. I am Ysgramor," he said, reaching out to clasp forearms with me in a gesture of friendship. "Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor's command we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale's dark mist, but three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe. Gormlaith the Fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the Valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim."

The three Nords I'd seen in the vision atop the Throat of the World. The ones who'd defeated Alduin the first time. I nodded.

"Come, I will take you to them," Ysgramor said, beckoning to me.

I followed him as he led me down through the assembled crowd. There were so many people around me. Centuries upon centuries worth of the honored dead.

Ysgramor turned sharply to cut around a small group of people dressed in armor denoting them as members of the Imperial Legion. I was about to follow when one of the legionnaires turned around. I froze. A sudden horrible, shaking, wrenching feeling tore at my heart. My head swam painfully.

He laughed at something and ran a hand through his long fiery hair. His bright blue eyes passed over me initially, but he must have seen the grief-stricken look on my face because those eyes soon focused back on me. Not many would walk into  _Sovngarde,_ hall of the honored dead and the ultimate reward for the Nordic people, looking like they were in ultimate pain.

"You all right, lass?" He asked me, quickly becoming concerned.

I shuddered when I heard him speak. His voice… it was just like I remembered.

When I finally managed to find my own, it came out in little more than a squeak as I asked, "Da?"

At first he was confused. Then a light suddenly seemed to turn on behind his eyes.

" _Mara?_ "

"Da! Oh, gods,  _Da!_ "

I threw my arms around him and he hugged me tight. Shaking tears slid down my cheeks. A harsh edge creeping into my voice, I told him, "I found the smuggler that did this to you, Da. It took a while, but I found him and I gutted him."

"That's my girl. And look at you! My little warrior's gotten so big and strong," he said, pulling back to grin at me. Then his smile faltered. "But you're not… You're not dead. How did you get in here, lass?"

"I… I'm  _Dragonborn,_ Da."

He stared at me. Then he let out a long, low whistle. "Really? My little Mara, Dragonborn. Who'd have thought? Then you're the one who's going after Alduin?"

I nodded.

"There's nothing I can do you convince you not to go, is there?" When I shook my head, he sighed. "I thought not. Just, tell me first… is your mother all right? Is she still alive?"

"Yes, and she's safe."

"Good. Now stay strong, fight well, and may Talos guard you, lass. I'm so proud of the woman you've become," he said to me, kissing the top of my head.

"I love you, Da," I murmured.

He let me go and playfully pushed me away toward my destination with a hand on my back. I laughed and wiped away the tears that still clung to my face before slipping back through the crowd.

Ysgramor waited for me near the other end of the hall. Nearby him stood three familiar figures. Hakon, Felldir, and Gormlaith. All three of them were exactly as I remembered them in my vision. Upon catching sight of me, the woman grinned and drew her sword.

" _At long last!_ " She cackled. "Alduin's doom is now ours to seal! Just speak the word and with high hearts we'll hasten forth to smite the worm wherever he lurks."

Felldir held up a hand in warning. "Hold, comrades. Let us take counsel before battle is blindly joined. Alduin's mist is more than a snare – its shadowy gloom is his shield and cloak. But with four Voices joined, our valor combined, we can blast the mist and bring him to battle."

"Felldir speaks wisdom," Hakon told me. "The World-Eater fears you, Dragonborn. We must drive away his mist, Shouting together, and then unsheathe our blades in desperate battle with our black-winged foe."

I nodded. "Let's not waste any more time, then."

The four of us ran for the door, the souls of the honored dead stepping aside to let us pass. As we did, Gormlaith crowed, "To battle, my friends! The fields will echo with the clamor of war, our wills undaunted!"

Once outside, we stopped on the other side of the bridge, facing the mist. The four of us stood in a line.

"Clear Skies! Combine our Shouts!" Gormlaith called.

Together, we Shouted at the fog. It cleared, revealing the full valley for the first time. I drew my bow.

From somewhere out there, I heard an echoing, rumbling voice. " _Ven mul riik!"_

The mist reappeared, white tendrils coiling over the grass. The cloud stopped just before us, where it had been before.

" _Again!_ "

Again we Shouted and dispelled the mist, and again it returned.

"Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?" Hakon asked.

"Stand fast!" Gormlaith shouted down the line at him. She pointed out at the mist, which I suddenly noticed was thinner than before. "His strength is failing! Once more, and his might will be broken!"

Then Felldir's voice, just as loud, "His power crumbles! Do not pause for breath!"

One last time, the four of us shouted, " _Lok vah koor!_ "

That time, when the mist dissipated it remained gone. With a furious roar, I saw a black shape in the distance leap into the sky. His massive wings spread wide to catch the air. It was the moment of truth: Alduin was coming.

"The endless wait gives way to battle," Gormlaith murmured to my right as she stepped into a fighting stance. "Alduin's doom, his death or ours."

I nocked an arrow, watching as the dragon soared down toward us. He roared and the sky suddenly darkened. Fire began to rain down all around us. I dodged the fireballs as they crashed to the ground.

He was too high up and too fast for me to even try to shoot him. Waiting until he was overhead, I Shouted, " _Joor zah frul!"_

Alduin crashed to earth and I staggered. Hakon caught my arm to steady me.

"Hold fast, now."

I straightened to see that Felldir and Gormlaith had quickly managed to back Alduin against a rocky hill. The dragon snapped at them with his massive jaws and spewed fire at them. They dodged his attacks and managed to throw in some of their own with their blades. They'd never defeat him like that. My gaze snapped up onto the rocks above him and my eyes narrowed.

"Keep him distracted," I said.

Hakon grinned and hefted his axe. "With pleasure."

As he hurried off to join the other two, I raced around the hill, staying carefully out of sight. I climbed up the rocks, making for the top of the hill, while below I heard the sounds of their weapons clashing loudly against his scales and Shouts from both sides as the Tongues fought the ancient dragon.

Clambering up onto the hill's peak, I looked down at the fight below me. The dragon reared up onto his back legs. His pitch-black wings flapped menacingly and the force of the wind they caused sent the three Nords stumbling back.

_"_ _Pahlok joorre!"_ He snarled at them. _"Hin kah fen kos bonaar!"_

I took a deep breath.

"Divines preserve me," I whispered.

I took a running leap from the rocks and landed on Alduin's head. Before he could manage to shake me off, I loosed an arrow right into one of his eyes. When he threw back his head, I fell, landing hard on the ground. Shaking my head to clear it, I scrambled out of the way.

His scales started to glow fiery red at the edges and he let out an agonized roar.

" _Zu'u unslaad! Zu'u nis oblaan!_ "

With a thunderous tearing sound, his flesh and scales tore from his bones. Soon not even his skeleton was left when it quickly dissolved in black smoke. There was an explosion of light that knocked me off my feet.

Then everything was still.

Wincing and rubbing the back of my head, I looked up. The lights had appeared in the sky again and the fire was gone. All around me the valley was pristine, as if no fight had happened there at all.

As I got shakily to my feet, the bridge-keeper walked over to stand before me.

"This was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's hall forever, but your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I will welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting."

I hesitated at that.

"Would it be possible," I said slowly, "to give my place to another? A woman named Juliana Fides?"

He studied me for a moment. Then a sparkle appeared in his eyes, as if he suddenly understood my plan. "I believe that may be arranged."

I smiled a little. After they were parted for so long, I'd make sure my parents were together again. They deserved so much for all the pain that they went through.

"When you are ready to rejoin the living, just bid me so and I will send you back," he said.

"I'm ready."

He nodded solemnly. "Return now to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my Lord: a Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need.  _Hun kaal zoor._ "

I repeated the words back to him.

"Very good."

Some of the souls of the honored dead had streamed out of the doors of the hall and stood in a large crowd on the other side of the bridge, cheering loudly. I caught a quick glimpse of Da among them. On my side of the abyss, the three Tongues were cheering as well.

"All hail the Dragonborn! Hail her with great praise!" They cried.

I'd heard a Dragonborn hailed like that once before. That it was  _me_ this time… it felt strange to say the least.

" _Naal daal vus!_ "

The air started to shimmer and distort around me. Everything suddenly became brighter, taking on a gold-ish tint.

_"_ _Mara!"_

I looked around. In the distance, I thought I saw someone running toward me. He was still too far away to make out his face. Still, that voice… It sounded so familiar…

Then the world around me spun and I was gone.


	20. Dovahkiin

When my vision cleared I stood in the dark, surrounded by falling snow. Paarthurnax rested on a rock outcropping , gazing down at me. We were atop High Hrothgar, then.

I quickly realized that we weren't alone.

Sitting all around me in a circle were dragons. I turned slowly, warily, watching them. It was hard to tell their exact numbers in the darkness, but there were at least ten of them, and I thought I saw more. I felt the eyes of every single one of them on me. Then, as one, every single dragon gathered there spoke.

" _Alduin mahlaan."_

One by one the dragons leapt into the sky, soaring in a spiral above me. Jets of flame shot out in the darkness. I stared up at them, stunned. What was going on?

_"_ _Sahrot thur qahnaraan. Dovahkiin los ok dovahkriid. Thu'umii los nahlot. Mu los vomir."_

"So, it is done," Paarthurnax said, his voice solemn. "Alduin  _dilon._ The Eldest is no more. He who came before all others, and has always been."

"You don't sound very happy about it," I said, looking up at him.

The dragon sighed. "Happy? No, I am not happy.  _Zeymahi lost ont du'ul Bormahu._ Alduin was once the crown of our father Akatosh's creation. You did what was necessary. Alduin had flown far from the path of right action in his  _pahlok –_ the arrogance of his power. But I cannot celebrate his fall.  _Zu'u tiiraaz ahst ok mah._ He was my brother once. This world will never be the same."

"I'm sorry for what happened, but I did what I had to do."

"Indeed. You saw more clearly than I – certainly more clearly than Alduin.  _Rok funta koraav._ Perhaps now you have some insight into the forces that shape the  _vennesetiid…_ the currents of Time. Perhaps you begin to see the world as a  _dovah."_

He shook his massive head and went on, "But I forget myself.  _Krosis. So los mid fahdon._ Melancholy is an easy trap for a  _dovah_ to fall into. You have won a mighty victory.  _Sharot krongrah –_ one that will echo through all the ages of this world for those who have eyes to see. Savor your triumph, Dovahkiin. This is not the last of what you will write upon the currents of Time."

The dragons still circled overhead, roaring fire into the night sky. Paarthurnax and I gazed up at them. The old dragon chuckled.

" _Goraan!_ I feel younger than I have in many and age," he said. "Many of the  _dovahhe_  are now scattered across  _Keizaal._ Without Alduin's lordship, they may yet bow to the  _vahzen…_ rightness of my Thu'um. But willing or no, they will hear it! Fare thee well, Dovahkiin!"

With that, he leapt into the air to join the others. After a few minutes they all dispersed, flying away into the darkness, and I was left to stand alone on the mountaintop.

I brushed the few loose strands of hair that blew across my face back behind my ear and crossed my arms. Snow still fell around me and I shivered a little. What I would do now, the gods only knew. I had to make my way back down the mountain first, at least. After that…

A sudden roar rent the silence and a dragon landed behind me. I turned around to see a red dragon watching me through the darkness. Odahviing.

" _Pruzah wundunne wah Wuth Gein._  I wish the old one luck in his… quest," he said with a harsh snort.

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't approve?"

"I doubt many will wish to exchange Alduin's lordship for the tyranny of Paarthurnax's "Way of the Voice." As for myself, you've proven your mastery twice over.  _Thuri,_ Dovahkiin. I gladly acknowledge the power of your  _Thu'um."_

"And what of the others?" I asked him quietly. "What do they think about me? About all this?"

"Hmm. It is… difficult to say." He considered it for a moment. "To many of the  _dov_ you are now a  _hun –_ a hero. You freed us from Alduin's tyranny. You defeated him, and some of the  _dov_ may acknowledge your  _inhus –_ your mastery – now, as I do. Others may value their new freedom too highly to bend.  _Nunon tiid fen fun."_

That caught me off guard.  _Me?_

"Call me when you have need," Odahviing told me, "and I will come if I can."

I nodded, feeling a little numb, and the dragon flew away. I heard him roar again, then he was gone as well.

As I stood there, alone again, I contemplated what he'd just told me. I was a hero now, not just to the mortal people of Skyrim, but to the dragons as well. It hadn't ended in disaster this time. No one was dead but Alduin. I'd saved everyone.  _I'd_  done that. And I was still in one piece. Still, the voice of my shade echoed in my head. The fire, the death that she'd wielded in her hands, was inevitable. And I had it now. The power in my blood had awakened, just like she'd said. I unfolded my arms and stared down at my hands.

Maybe she was right. Maybe the fire was an inevitability. But Paarthurnax had said that it was also a choice: what I would burn and what I would save. In the end, it was  _my_  decision. I'd chosen to save my mother, the dragons, the world.

Flicking my wrists, I stared down at the flames that instantly roared to life in the palms of my hands. A slow smile touched my lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this story. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


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